


this is what love looks like

by CurvedYellowFruit, djhedy, likearecord, RainbowObsidian, vertigo



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AU - Different First Meeting, AU - Exy, AU - and they were roommates, Background Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Kandreil - Freeform, Misunderstandings, Multi, POV Aaron Minyard, POV Abby Winfield, POV Allison Reynolds, POV Jeremy Knox, POV Matt Boyd, POV Nicky Hemmick, Post-Canon, Roommates to lovers, STI testing, au - no exy, background Nicky Hemmick/Erik Klose - Freeform, outsider pov, please enjoy this silver boxed gift lovingly wrapped in foxy ribbon, the foxes all just really love each other, the silver foxes all just really love you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurvedYellowFruit/pseuds/CurvedYellowFruit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/djhedy/pseuds/djhedy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/likearecord/pseuds/likearecord, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowObsidian/pseuds/RainbowObsidian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vertigo/pseuds/vertigo
Summary: Have you ever wanted to see your OT3 through someone else’s eyes? An adventure to Kandreil-land, carefully documented by some brave observers.ORA series of outsider-POVs, set in verses where Exy may or may not exist, our boys are aged up a bit, softer, and just generally very much in love.
Relationships: Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day & Aaron Minyard, Kevin Day & Abby Winfield, Kevin Day & Jeremy Knox, Kevin Day/Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Matt Boyd & Neil Josten, Neil Josten & Abby Winfield, Neil Josten & Allison Reynolds, Nicky Hemmick & Andrew Minyard
Comments: 32
Kudos: 247





	1. Abby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justadreamfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justadreamfox/gifts).



> Dreamy,  
> We love you. You love these boys. For your birthday, we're letting everyone see why. The other girls are here in spirit, if not the words. 
> 
> We owe our life force to @rainbowobsidian for pulling this together, our ongoing survival to @curvedyellowfruit and every bit of polish to @foxsoulcourt for the title, her beta, and her cheerleading.  
> 🖤  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IFLU™  
> black hearts abound  
> not a fucking pipedream  
> 🖤

Abby Winfield was not easily surprised.

Over twenty years of nursing, including ten in an emergency department and a further ten as on-campus nurse for a rolling team of underprivileged kids that all needed fourth, fifth and fifteenth chances, Abby had seen it all. She could only think of a handful of moments that had truly caught her off guard and she was proud to say that _unflappability_ was one of her superpowers. There was that guy that had self catheterised with a glass straw and then sneezed whilst the glass was still inside him, shattering the straw and causing irreparable damage to his urethra at the same time. There was the woman that had presented to the ER with a minor laceration to her thumb, but when she arrived she brought with her a stench of rotting flesh so strong Abby had insisted on a full examination - and discovered a large, fungating breast tumor that had eaten into most of the flesh on the right side of her chest. And then there was Neil Josten. Neil, who had reluctantly shown her a macabre map of scars his first year at Palmetto. Neil, who had been further violated - a cartographer’s canvas - at the hands of his father’s people, not twelve months after that.

So it shouldn’t have surprised her when once again it was Neil who had rendered her speechless, yet here she was, scrambling for composure and hoping desperately that he hadn’t seen the fleeting moment of alarm as it flicked across her face (but knowing nothing got past him anyway). She was used to Neil being reckless, but this was next level - even for him.

“We need your help,” Neil said as he walked in, pushed Kevin into a seat and closed then locked the door behind him. “And we need you to be discrete. You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Of course,” Abby confirmed, wondering why after so many years he was questioning her professionalism now.

“We need you to test us for STDs,” Neil said, gaze unwavering as he stared at Abby, almost as if he was daring her to say something. Beside her, Kevin slumped in his chair, looking more mortified than she had ever seen him, red from forehead to fingertips.

Oh yes, Abby was accustomed to Neil’s reckless streak, but the idea that he might be cheating on Andrew with Kevin was something she had never imagined possible.

The idea that Kevin might be stupid enough to put his life at risk by engaging in such a stupid, thoughtless act was also something she’d never considered.

And the idea that they were clearly hoping Andrew would remain in the dark about this was absurd; Andrew was one of the most observant people she had ever met in her life.

“Of course,” Abby said again, carefully keeping her face blank as she turned to wash her hands. “Was there something in particular you were worried about, or would you like a full screen?”

“Full screen,” Neil said, decisively, and then as an afterthought: “Thanks.”

“Kevin?” Abby asked looking over at him. There was something off about him and she needed reassurance he was okay.

“Um, yeah,” he cleared his throat, then scratched the back of his neck and at least had the decency to look sheepish. “Full screen, thanks.”

Abby busied herself preparing the blood tubes and then passed over a urine sample jar to each man. Boy. _Idiot._ What on earth were they thinking? Had they been thinking at all? With anything other than their dicks? What would they do when Andrew found out? Neil looked cool as a cucumber, sure, but Kevin was a mess and he wasn’t going to last ten minutes without Andrew pulling him aside and, well, if she knew Andrew, pulling a knife on him, probably. They were just lucky he and David had gone out of town a few days to scout some potential new goalies and wasn’t here to witness this car crash in real time. Though maybe it wouldn’t have escalated quite so far if he’d been around.

Kevin and Neil left then to pee in a cup and she leaned against the counter, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. It was moments like these she wished she didn’t work so close to home. What she wouldn’t give to be able to go home and talk to David about these young idiots as if they were utter strangers that had just wandered into her clinic. What she wouldn’t give to be able to debrief with him or Bee from time to time about the things she sees and hears. Abby was a professional though, and even if she was tempted to spill a bit of goss from time to time, both David _and_ Bee would cut it down as soon as they realised what she was doing. It’s part of what made them such a good team. The Foxes knew that they could each be counted on to provide different levels and types of support, guidance and tough love, whilst also maintaining absolute confidentiality at the same time. In ten years at Palmetto their professionalism had never been questioned and while plenty of students had made lewd suggestions about her and David’s relationship, they’d certainly never confirmed it. Fear of pillow talk would be bound to damage the already tenuous trust that the three so carefully cultivated with their athletes, and if word got out about the actual circumstances of their relationship, Abby knew they’d lose any credibility they had.

When Neil and Kevin returned, Abby thought maybe Kevin’s colour had improved somewhat, though when he turned and handed over his urine, she realised he had actually moved the full spectrum from beet red to ghostly white, the queen tattooed on his cheek a stark contrast to his pallor. “Are you ok, Kevin?” she asked quietly, though the room was small and so privacy was an illusion with Neil mere feet away.

“Yeah,” he replied, not making eye contact, and sat in the chair for her to collect blood, staring resolutely across at the curtains that hung beside the cot. “I just,” he cleared his throat again. “This is just embarrassing, that’s all, coming here. For this. Sorry.”

“Oh, Kevin,” Abby said and her words caught in her throat as she saw what looked like panic in his eyes. “You know you can come to me about anything-” she cast her eyes quickly towards Neil and then back again “- _anything_ ,” she repeated, barely a whisper. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Neil - she did. He’d been a grounding force in the eye of the Fox storm since he’d arrived at PSU three years ago and his capacity to unite the athletes was something that she was certain surprised even him, from time to time. It’s just that, well to be frank, Kevin was a much more outwardly emotional human than Neil, especially now that he was drinking less and beginning to actually deal with his trauma. And it made sense that if Kevin was going to develop feelings for anyone it would be someone with whom he shared a significant history, and could relate to where he’d been and what he’d been through. But Neil could be cold. And calculating and manipulative, and if this - _thing_ \- had meant more to Kevin than to Neil, well he was going to need all the support he could get.

But she was probably getting ahead of herself. Boys had needs right? Or something like that. _People_ had needs - it’s just she’d always thought he was too caught up in Exy to really notice people _that way_ (or at all, often). Aside from Thea he’d never mentioned anyone of interest, but then, she was just the team nurse, wasn’t she. As Abby collected the blood and Kevin resolutely continued to stare at the unmoving curtains in front of him, Abby idly wondered if Andrew would be more forgiving of the idea of infidelity through casual sex, or if Kevin and Neil had developed feelings for each other which had escalated while Andrew was away. Probably neither, really. She’d definitely seen him soften over the last few years - Neil and Aaron had been sanding steadily away at his sharp edges - but from her perspective, he still saw things in black and white.

And then it was Neil’s turn for bloods and he smiled at her like he always did and he chatted about the new plants she had in her clinic and about how he, Andrew and Kevin had bought some indoor plants last time they went to Columbia. He smiled fondly as he told her how he and Kevin had taken their need to be the best at things and transferred it to plant care and everything was green and lush and thriving as a result, and his eyes sparkled as he looked to Kevin then and Abby thought, _oh no, they’re both in too deep_. She wanted to ask what they thought they were doing, didn’t they know how this would set Andrew back, because of course they must have, but she didn’t. Because they were here for discretion, and Abby knew from all her time looking after Neil that despite how much he had opened up over the last few years he could still shut down and close shop in an instant if he felt threatened.

“And you should see Andrew, Abby,” Neil continued as he held the cotton ball over his arm where the needle had just been. “He pretends he doesn’t care about the plants at all, but _he_ was the one who did the research to figure out what plants would thrive in our dorm with the light and orientation and our schedules. _He_ was the one that narrowed them down into a mysteriously vague shortlist, which had _absolutely nothing_ to do with which ones he liked the look of best, hey Kev?” He winked at Kevin. _He winked_ _at Kevin_. “And then a couple of days ago - god, don’t you breathe a word of this to him, he will kill me for telling you - I’d been having a nap and he didn’t know I was home and when I came out of the bedroom he was _talking_ to his favourite one, whilst untangling the vines. It was fucking adorable.”

And then Kevin grinned in return, and his springs uncoiled as he finally relaxed for the first time since they’d walked in, as if Andrew - _soft_ Andrew - was the antidote to his tension.

Abby opened her mouth, and closed it. Goldfished a moment. Processed. Thought back eight years to when Betsy first came to PSU and how happy she and David had been before, but how complete they had felt once Bee arrived. How their springs had uncoiled. Wondered if what she thought was happening, might actually be happening.

“Um,” she started, turning back from where she’d been labelling the blood tubes and faced Neil, where he was now standing, close to Kevin. “Does…” Neil watched her, patiently, while she flailed and it became apparent that he was not going to make this easy for her. After so many years together Neil had adopted many of Andrew’s mannerisms. “Does Andrew know you’re here?”

“Andrew is in Charleston with Coach,” Neil said, neatly side-stepping the question.

“He is,” Abby confirmed. “Sorry, I won’t pry, I just-”

“We asked for discretion.”

“You did - I shouldn’t have-”

“But if we wanted privacy we could have gone to Columbia.” Neil cast a look sideways at Kevin, who’s ears had turned pink again, but gave a small nod after reading the unspoken question in Neil’s eyes. “We’ve asked Kevin to be our boyfriend.”

Abby exhaled then - sharp and loud - a breath she had no idea she’d been holding, and laughed awkwardly at her vocal relief. “Sorry,” she smiled. “I didn’t realise how much I hoped you were going to say that, and how much I thought you weren’t going to.”

“I would never hurt Andrew,” Neil said, and though his voice was steady, his face betrayed a flicker of alarm.

“Nor would I,” Kevin blurted out. “That’s why we’re getting tested. I’ve been with a few people since, well, since Thea, and um… we just want to start on a clean slate.” He scrubbed both hands through his hair then and down both cheeks before adding, “Fuck, Abby, please don’t tell Dad - I’m not - I mean, I will - but, I’m not ready. He doesn’t even know I’m bi. Hell, _I_ didn’t even know I was bi until, um…” he trailed off and looked at Neil, face fully flushed again. Neil grinned at him like he thought he was all kinds of adorable. “I’m going to stop talking now. Can we go?” He turned, grabbing the sleeve of Neil’s shirt and headed for the door.

“I’ll send these off this afternoon; you guys should have results back by the end of the week. Will Andrew be coming by?”

“Thanks Abby,” Neil answered, still smiling. He looked lighter, now, as if he’d been buoyed by opening up. “He’s getting tested in Charleston. I rang him first thing this morning when Kevin told me his answer.” He touched his hand to Kevin’s lower back briefly before unlocking the door.

Gods bless them, they were adorable.

“Oh, Kevin,” Abby called as Kevin trailed out after Neil. Kevin turned to look at her, squinting one eye closed slightly, tilting his head as his mouth formed a half grimace, half smile and oh how he looked like his father just then. “Don’t underestimate your dad - you’d be surprised about his capacity to understand.”

She smiled as the boys left and marvelled at how they’d _all_ managed to miss the familial resemblance between Kevin and David for so long. It was absurd in retrospect. Turns out perhaps appearance was one of only a number of things they had in common.

Yes, sometimes Abby really wished she could talk to David and Betsy about what went on behind closed doors in her little clinic. Like so many others, this wasn’t her secret to tell, but in a pleasant twist, for once, she was delighted by this reveal.


	2. Allison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the lack of vroom vroom, but ILU happy b-day

Back in high school, Allison was known as many things: beautiful, competent, competitive; but most of all, her peers called her _nosy._

That might hold some truth, because Allison Jamaica Reynolds was a curious creature. Sure, maybe she’d had a nose for gossip, maybe she’d liked the talk, or maybe she’d just watched too many episodes of Scooby Doo in her childhood. One of her first crushes was Velma and she’d always wanted to be like Daphne...But hadn’t everyone?

Allison is out shopping for lilac go-go boots when the itch of discovery started coursing through her body. High up on the NY billboards she sees Neil’s smiling face.

And Kevin's proud smile.

And Andrew's flicker of a laugh.

But there's also… Something else.

(And she's not talking about the bulge in Kevin's pants).

Allison looks at the billboard for at least five minutes, angering the passing New Yorkers who complain she is obstructing their hurried pace. She doesn't let it bother her. She thinks she looks more like a Christmas special heroine, standing in Times Square as the snowflakes fall.

She squints at the billboard, trying to see an invisible and unspeakable something. Allison shoulders her bag, holds tighter to the purchases she's made and strides on. She can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more on display than just the US Court’s latest recruits.

Her apartment is as cozy as it can be. Her two dogs yap and jump around her ankles as she drops the bags and moves into her office.

If she flings the windows open a bit too hard it's no one's business. Allison has an itch to scratch.

She shoves away all the sketches for the new Marc Jacobs' fall collection and turns on her computer. The TV screen beeps happily as she connects it to her computer and starts looking through the latest Exy releases. Allison stops, putting on her blue filter glasses, as a future owner of her own clothing line she needs to take care of her vision, and besides, everyone knows glasses make you look smarter.She needs to be smarter right now.

She writes the first headline in her little notebook: _Kevin Day to join peers Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten in Sharks lineup._

She sketches Neil's smile as she watches the interview, noticing the way his scars move when he grins. Next she sketches Andrew's subtle eyebrow twitch. Neil talks enthusiastically about being reunited with Kevin; Andrew nods.

The second headline is a little more tame: _Sharks beat Buffalos 7-4_. Kevin is focused on staring at the goal, as if it personally offended him just by denying him his points.

She sketches Kevin's gloved fingers, tight around the handle of his exy racquet. And Neil's fierce frown. Press duty is all Kevin's and Allison watches as Neil squeezes his shoulder on the way to the locker room. Lately, Neil has been smiling a lot - his tired and flustered face stretched into a happy grin - and it is miles away from the skittish freshman she knew.

The third headline is older, back when Kevin was still with the Eagles, miles away from Andrew and Neil and fighting for a championship trophy. _Minyard closes the goal (again)_ , it says. Allison sketches the angry yet, amused frown on Kevin's face. The triumphant tick of Andrew's full lips. Neil's handsome grin.

The fourth headline pops up on her screen: _Sharks do it. Again._ Neil's arms are thrown around Kevin's neck, his feet off the ground as the other striker lifts him in a hug. It's so sweet how these two scarred and hurt creatures find solace in a tight embrace. Allison can't see Neil's face, hidden on the crook of Kevin's neck, but she sketches a smile around a mouthguard.

Kevin's hands are tight on the back of Neil's uniform, bunching up the red fabric between his fingers. And Andrew is leaning on his racquet, his overprotective hazel eyes, focused on…

Kevin?

Allison squints, playing the video on her TV. She gets up when both Minyard and Day come to focus and she traces an invisible line from Andrew's eyes to Kevin's…

Holy shit.

Kevin's ass.

_Is Andrew cheating on her Neilio?_

She keeps the scene on a loop, watching it over and over. Andrew removes his helmet and Allison is sure his gaze alternates between asses. Objectively, she knows Kevin does have a nice ass; she herself used to ogle it back when he was at the PSU gym, squatting as if his life depended on it. Neil has also a cute butt, not as glorious as Kevin's, but tiny and firm all the same.

Well she _can't_ blame Andrew for staring. She would too. Except she's not in a relationship with Neil Josten.

With that in mind, Allison pulls up the Exy reddit feed, the go-to source for the latest Exy gossip. It seems she was not the only one who picked up on the homoeroticism of the butt staring. There's a couple of uninteresting topics: _is jerejean a thing?, MATTS CUTE BBY, tips for a beard like C. Wymack? DILFS OF EXY..._

And finally, staring at her, there's the topic of her interest:

_IS DAYARD A THING?_

Allison opens the thread, beating a song against her sketchbook. Her fingers are trembling, the itch to draw the evidence making her jittery.

The first picture is a candid shot of Andrew and Kevin walking down the street, Kevin's brows are furrowed while Andrew purchases a pack of nicotine gum. The second picture captures Kevin’s smile, that Andrew answers with a shrug, but the glint of his eyes betray his indifference.

The second string of pictures starts with Andrew shoving a cinnamon roll in front of Kevin in a back-alley cafe. Kevin looks like a dog who just smelled something incredibly foul. The accompanying image captures his widened eyes, and a sprinkling of cinnamon dust coloring his lips.

Allison sketches Andrew's smug smile. Kevin's lips stained with tiny cinnamon freckles.

There's another picture of them, Andrew leaning his head on Kevin's shoulder as they both watch Neil train. It looks like a public exy court. Andrew's heavy eyebags are visible even in the grainy picture and she sketches those too. She also draws Andrew's hand massaging Kevin's scarred left hand. There's a tiny grimace curving his eyebrows downward.

The conspiracy theory that follows is ridiculous and Allison finds it so amusing she would laugh out loud, except she’s starting to get a headache.

_Kandreilfan90 wrote:_

_Omg guys can u see it?? theyre in LOVE DONT U GUYS SEE?? KANDREIL FOREVER_

_Amimirnyard wrote:_

_Ugh, stop, first of all Kevin is STRAIGHT he was dating Candice Kaur!_

Allison knows for a fact he is not dating Candice Kaur. She hooked up with the top model two weeks ago during a particularly salacious photoshoot. She cracks her fingers, typing a question to all the conspiracy theories going on:

_Neiliofan07 wrote:_

_I'm definitely picking some andrew/kevin vibes, what about all the andreil rage?_

Allison steeples her fingers, watching as the answers pop up faster than she can answer.

_Amimirnyard wrote:_

_Ikr, andreil is such a cute pairing OMG GUYS WHAT IF ANDREW IS CHEATING ON NEIL???_

_Fckme_Daddy_wymack wrote:_

_I think neil is ace , you cant date if ur ace_

_Sunshiremy_fan wrote:_

_(凸ಠ益ಠ)凸 fuck u fckme_daddy_wymack Neil can do whatever he wants u can date if ur ace are u dumb?_

_Nippon_stalker wrote: oh, here's a fresh picture for all your kandrew needs ;)_

The picture that follows is a grainy shot, most likely from surveillance cameras. Andrew's face is shoved on Kevin's chest as the man fucking _hugs_ him. Their faces aren't visible, but Allison draws Kevin's long fingers tangled in Andrew's blond hair.

_Britishdaddy wrote: I'll counter you Nippon_stalker with this._

There's a new picture, now Kevin is kissing Neil's cheek as they exit the barely finished game of the night. He's holding on to Neil's hand and Allison draws that intimate contact. She shuts her laptop when the headache becomes unbearable.

Allison moves around her apartment, her mental cogs turning so fast she knows only a glass of rose and a hot bath will save her. She draws a bath and starts drinking straight from the bottle as her lavender bath bomb colors the water purple.

Finally, she gathers the courage to dial Neil. The phone rings and the sound presses in on her headache like a vice.

"Hey Alli!" Neil sounds jubilant. Of course, he just won the national championship! Allison feels like an asshole. She hates to be the one to break the bad news.

"Neilio my baby! Congrats on the win," she says, swirling her finger around the effervescent bath bomb between her legs.

"Thank you Alli! Andrew and Kevin say hi," he adds. They probably didn't say hi, but she smiles nonetheless.

"So, Neil… I need a model for some new suits… Are you free to swing by?"

Neil says something on the other end, and then Allison hears the unmistakable sound of a tiny kiss. Then another. Her blood boils; _how can Andrew be that much of an asshole?_

"I'm a little tired, Alli. I'd like to go home with Kevin and Andrew." Neil does sound tired but his voice also sounds unmistakably fond; _Kevin and Andrew_ come out more like _Kevn'Drew_. Like they’re held in the same loving standard in Neil's head.

"No problems, babe. Swing by next week?"

Neil laughs, soft and carefree like she has never heard him before. "You know I don't swing Alli."

This time Allison laughs around a swig of her wine bottle. "I know Neilio, but just… come over as soon as you can okay?" Her phone vibrates and she pulls it away, staring at Neil's request to change to a video chat.

"What's wrong?" he asks. In the background Andrew is doing something to Kevin's hand, and it might be a simple gesture, but it makes Allison's blood _boil_.

"Just need to talk to you Neil."

"Okay, then we can go by tomorrow, I'm sure And--"

"Alone."

Allison watches as Kevin and Andrew turn to Neil, two pairs of eyes zeroing in on the phone screen. "Hello Reynolds." Andrew says and she sighs. Of course he would go all alpha shit territorial over Neil.

Neil sighs too, rubbing his face one-handed. "We can talk tomorrow Alli. I'm gonna go celebrate with them ok?"

Alli sighs in return, nodding and finishing the call. She almost drops her phone in the tub with how frustrated she is. How could Andrew do that? They went through so much together and now he's being a dirty cheater? And how can Neil be so fucking blind to what is happening right in front of his face?

She gets up, drying herself off and plops on her bed, her headache is worse than it was a couple of minutes ago. Allison resolves to use all of her contacts to absolutely _annihilate_ Day and Minyard.

Allison dreams of Exy racquets and murder.

The dreams chase her into the morning as she stretches in her puppy yoga class, her babies yapping happily and getting their yoga glow on after a nice workout. Allison, Zan and Chie are about to enjoy a pet friendly fruit salad when the doorbell rings. She's not expecting anyone at… half past eight in the morning. But Zan and Chie are yapping, scratching at the door with so much desperation that Allison already knows who's outside.

She gets an armful of Neil Josten as soon as the door swings open and _damn_ if she didn't miss him. Allison holds him close, squishing him against her sweaty chest and keeps him there. Maybe this will help. "Hey Alli… Are you okay?" Neil asks, and he sounds tired. Good but tired.

"I'm great Neilio, but your godchildren miss you." She laughs as Neil bends down to play with the puppies. They're somewhat more sedate post- workout. Chie, the calmer one, is mostly tired out, but Zan is a little devil, yapping and biting at Neil's fingers.

"Sorry I haven't been around," he picks both puppies up, kissing their noses and cradling them like babies. "Kevin's move took a lot of time, and you know how it is."

"Yeah… About that…" Allison scratches the back of her head, pulling Neil by the arm to her office, the half finished snippets of Exy’s golden trio lay scattered, and the TV still blinks with passing pictures of them. She stops at one of the pictures of Kevin and Andrew sharing a cinnamon roll. "He's cheating on you with your husband…"

Neil opens his mouth, securing the puppies better in his arms. "Alli…"

"I know! They're such shitty people! After all you've done for them…"

"Actually…"

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news Neil, but you need to know the truth. You can come and live with me, I’ll take care of you. Zan and Chie can bite them…"

"Alli…"

"Oh god Neilio…"

"We're together."

Allison stops mid-rant.

Her mind stops turning.

Zan barks.

Chie yawns.

And Neil smiles like he never smiled before.

"You’re what?"

He puts the puppies down, allowing them to flop on the floor as he looks through Allison's drawings."We've been together for a long time. Me, Kev and Drew."

Allison gapes at Neil. "You _what_?"

"We don't tell anyone because their first instinct is to think the worst, but it’s really good Alli, I promise you."

"Oh Neilio…" She hugs him close, swaying Neil from side to side. On one hand she feels such relief, to know that Neil is being cared for, loved so much that his voice gets impossibly soft when he says _Kevn'Drew_ , that he finally seems to have everything he needs.

On the other hand she wants to smack him.

"Can I keep the drawings?" Neil asks with a smile when Allison kisses his forehead.

"Yeah, but only if you let me design the wedding suits. We're not having a Tiger King pink and denim polygamous wedding."

Neil laughs and laughs, his blue eyes crinkling while Allison keeps him close.


	3. Aaron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday lovely dreamfox xxx
> 
> and to everyone else, why yes writing kevin & aaron as just friends WAS a little painful at first, but this is proof i would do anything for the people i love ;)
> 
> no but for real i love these characters writing this was so much fun, yay for friends' birthdays giving me a push to write something a little outside my usual bullshit x

Kevin had asked Aaron to come out with him for breakfast. Early. Aaron had texted back  _ fuck off _ and tried to turn his phone off, but before he could he got the reply,  _ I’ll buy _

He shuffled his face against his pillow before springing out of bed and slapping away the dangling arm of his cousin from the bunk above. Matt slept like a baby, as usual, and even Aaron’s annoyed clatter around the room as he grabbed clothes to have a 7am breakfast  _ on a Saturday  _ didn’t wake the guy. Aaron slammed the door behind him, smirking as he heard Nicky’s belated  _ DID YOU GROW UP IN A BARN??  _ and Matt’s  _ WHAT IN THE FUCK IS HAPPENING _

He left it all behind.

Stopped in the hallway to text Katelyn.  _ going to breakfast with Kevin. I hate Kevin. _

He didn’t expect a reply. She’d be asleep for another couple of hours.

Aaron allowed himself a smile before he reached Kevin’s door, leaned against the opposite wall and affected an unimpressed pose as the door opened and Kevin, who looked like he hadn’t slept in years, stumbled through the door.

Aaron shook his head. “It’s 7am, you asshole.”

Kevin just glared, put a finger to his lips, closed the door gently behind him and walked off.

And Aaron followed. Like he always did.

“So why are we awake?” Aaron was resting the side of his face on one hand, sliding his fork in and out of the pile of eggs in front of him with the other.

It was too early for eggs.

On a  _ Saturday _ .

Kevin didn’t look any better than Aaron felt, but he’s the one who dragged them out here, and he hadn’t  _ said  _ anything yet.

Aaron waited another 30 seconds, then dropped his fork. “Are you having a breakdown? Is this a breakdown breakfast?”

Kevin raised his eyes from where he’d been staring morosely into his eggs.

“I have a question,” he said, shifting a little in his seat but finally making eye contact with Aaron.

“Ok,” Aaron said slowly, straightening. “I’m not sure you’ve ever asked me a question before.”

Kevin waved a hand, dismissive. “Don’t be silly, of course I have.”

Aaron smirked.

“It’s about Katelyn.”

“Ok, shoot.” Aaron spooned food into his mouth, warming to the conversation.

Kevin looked at the table, and Aaron chewed. Kevin said, “How do you know you love her?”

Aaron stopped chewing. And then, not wanting to die, began again, chewing slowly, thoughtfully, and after swallowing said, “What the fuck?”

Kevin glared at him. “I asked a simple question.”

Aaron barked a laugh, and drained the end of his coffee. “Sure.”

“Can you not be difficult for once?”

Aaron leaned back and rapped his knuckles on the table. “Since when do we talk about shit like this?”

Kevin leaned forward, arms resting on the table and voice low. “Since now. Who else am I supposed to go to?  _ Nicky?” _

“Fair point,” conceded Aaron, imagining painful conversations with Nicky about  _ feelings  _ and shit. He shrugged and looked away. “I dunno. What do you mean? What do you wanna know?”

He picked a little at a fraying hem on his jeans as Kevin said, “What do you love about Katelyn?”

Aaron smirked at his jeans. “She’s hot. Have you  _ seen _ her?”

Kevin sighed, impatient. “Aaron.” An order. It was a tone Aaron had heard a thousand times before.

He straightened, and flopped his arms on the table, and looked at Kevin. He shrugged a little and said, “Fuck if I know. She’s cool. She’s strong, she’s like the strongest person on that team. She’s funny. She’s clever. I just like being around her. I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

“You’re deflecting,” Kevin said, a stern look on his face, comfortable, like he enjoyed looking stern. He probably did.

“I am not  _ deflecting _ ,” Aaron snapped. “This shit is more complicated than that.”

“What do you mean?”

Aaron gave Kevin a bemused look, but then he thought about it. He thought: Kevin has never had that. He thought: neither have I, but I found it anyway. He said, “I really don’t know. She just… makes  _ sense  _ to me.”

Kevin nodded, like this was a fact he was collecting, then waited for more. Aaron clenched his jaw, and pushed through the intense feeling of  _ stupid _ , and said, “I care about her, and she cares about me. Like, I care about her  _ more  _ than I care about me.”

Kevin frowned. “That doesn’t sound healthy.”

“It probably isn’t.”

“What else?”

Aaron felt like he was reaching a hand straight into his gut and trying to pull bits out, all for Kevin. Stupid Kevin. He’d have to trade best friends, next time he was in a best friend store. “What else? You’re asking me to define love, dude. It’s not like science.”

“Why not?” Kevin asked.

Aaron thought about it. “I can’t prove it.”

“You can’t?”

Aaron thought about it some more. “I mean. I suppose you try to prove it to the people you love. Katelyn hates my favourite beer, but stocks it for me anyway. Sometimes I buy her ugly flowers because she thinks they’re pretty. Whatever.”

Kevin hummed. And then a small smile appeared on one half of his face. “Breakfast at 7am on a Saturday.”

Aaron glared, and picked up his knife. “Don’t make me knife you.”

“Ok,  _ Andrew _ .”

“I hate you.”

Kevin was acting weird. Sometimes he was quiet for long periods of time, studying some of the others, like Neil, or one time Andrew, like he was trying to figure something out. Aaron struck him in the back of the legs at practice once and said, “You having a stroke?” Kevin sent him on laps for that.

They were in the lounge, eating take out and arguing about recruits. Actually, Neil and Jack were arguing. Aaron looked up from where Nicky was talking his ear off, realising he was surprised not to hear Kevin’s angry interjections.

Neil said, “I’m right about this.”

Jack said, “You think you’re right about everything you entitled prick.”

Andrew said, “Egg roll,” and Neil passed one to him without unclenching his jaw. 

A minute later, Kevin walked back into the lounge, file in one hand. Neil and Jack looked up at him, matching glare for glare, waiting for input. Kevin held the file out to Neil. Neil looked at it, and reached for it cautiously. Kevin said through gritted teeth, “Johnson. We go with Johnson. Neil is right, her style is somewhere between the two of you. She will be the best replacement for Dan.”

Neil dropped the file.

Later, Neil rambled mercilessly at Kevin over his recruitment choice, clearly looking for a fight, Kevin’s jaw tight and angled away, and Andrew by their side, watching the exchange with unreasonable amusement.

Or like, they went to the mall. Mostly for something to do. Andrew had said something about Neil needing new clothes, but that was usually just an excuse to play dress-up. Gross. Anyway, it was a Saturday, Aaron was bored, he liked the milkshakes. Whatever.

He and Kevin were wandering through the aisles of clothing in comfortable silence, peanut butter and banana milkshakes in hand, stilling when Kevin started feeling a black hoody between his fingers. “Not your colour,” said Aaron, straw in his mouth. Kevin hummed. “Or your size.” In white text so small you had to squint to read it, it said  _ the world has bigger problems than boys who kiss boys or girls who kiss girls.  _ Aaron slurped. “Or your style.” He turned away.

Aaron wandered out to the game store opposite, and Kevin found him there a few minutes later, and they split $50 for the satisfaction of giving Neil a christmas present he would hate. Aaron smirked as he read the back of the box,  _ baseball like you’ve never played it before! _ “Can you imagine anything more dull?”

“You’re childish,” said Kevin with no smile, taking the game and marching over to the counter to pay. Aaron grinned at his back.

Back at the car, Aaron hid the game bag in the tiny trunk, and Kevin threw his shoulder bag in there too.

Aaron, relegated to middle seat these days, dozed on Kevin on the way back, kicking Nicky’s legs whenever they crowded his space too much, and listened with contentment to Nicky, Neil and Kevin gently bickering about everything and anything.

When he got back he texted Katelyn,  _ busy?  _ as they walked up the stairs of Fox Tower together.

_ no!! mine or yours? :) ;) :) _

Aaron looked up, and tried to figure out what mood his brother was in. “What are we doing?” he said as Neil unlocked the door and Nicky followed him straight in.

Kevin shrugged. “Noodles?”

“Ok.” Aaron followed the others inside. “I’m inviting Katelyn.”

It wasn’t a question. Andrew didn’t even react.

So Aaron looked at Kevin, who went into the kitchen and opened a cupboard door - presumably to count noodle packets - and nodded.

“Great,” said Nicky, “tell her to bring my DVDs back. She’s a thief.”

“Ok,” Aaron said, looking down at his phone and typing,  _ here? do noodles make up for andrew? nicky wants his dvds back. _

She replied, as she always did, with a sweet,  _ sounds good babe,  _ and then, _ but im swapping nicky’s dvds for my cds! your cousin is a hypocrite. and andrew can glare at the wall all he likes. you’re lucky i’m so into you. xoxox _ , and Aaron smiled as he sent back a single,  _ x _ , before tucking his phone away.

When he looked up Andrew was following Neil over to the other side of the room; Neil sat on his chair while Andrew hopped up to a cross-legged position on the desk above him. Nicky started taking clothes out of his tote bag and showing them to Neil, who nodded patiently.

Aaron slumped into a beanbag chair, stretching and feeling content and lazy. Noodles and his girl. And the weekend. He smiled.

Kevin was being twitchy, at the edge of the room. He cleared his throat. “Andrew.”

Andrew and Neil both looked up. Then Neil looked away. Andrew said, “That’s me, I think.”

Kevin said, “Come into the bedroom.” And then he looked uncomfortable. “I have something to show you.” Nicky outright cackled.

But Andrew just hopped off the desk and followed Kevin into their bedroom.

Nicky picked a game, shoved it in, and a controller at Aaron’s chest, and Aaron didn’t notice Neil leaving too until suddenly it was all monsters and Nicky’s familiar laughter and looking around and realising they were alone.

When Katelyn arrived she settled into his lap, and chatted to Nicky while Aaron kept shooting monsters, Katelyn’s chest cosy against his own, and smelling so good, and Aaron feeling the best he’d felt in a while; he yelled, “ _ Kevin! Noodles!” _ and the three of them emerged, Neil with a lit up expression and Kevin hurrying into the kitchen and Andrew with the same bored expression as always, wearing a new black hoody with text that said  _ the world has bigger problems than boys who kiss boys or girls who kiss girls.  _

And then.

Aaron got a text from Katelyn at 1am while he was still awake, restless and eyes wide open and listening to the sounds of Nicky and Matt fast asleep like the dickheads they were, and mind whirring with his classes from that day - a text that just said  _ babe... _ in a needy tone only Aaron would understand.

He smirked and texted back  _ yeah? let’s see what we can do about that, _ and didn’t wait for a reply as he threw his covers off, pulled on his sweatpants and a hoody and left the dorm.

Aaron paused as he approached the corner of the building, patting his pockets to double check his keys, his phone, his condom, and heard an uncharacteristically quiet Neil say, his voice floating from round the corner, “You’ve been weird recently.”

Aaron froze. And waited.

And heard Kevin say, “No I haven’t.”

He didn’t know what to do. It was just Kevin and Neil. Probably just got back from night practise. Whatever. Why weren’t his feet moving?

“What was with that hoody you got Andrew?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You hate it when Andrew wears all black.”

“I do not.”

“And you just  _ gave _ me Johnson. Without even a fight. What’s that about?”

“It’s -” Kevin made a noise of frustration, and Aaron crept closer to the wall, heart beating against his chest. “I don’t know why you’re being difficult. That’s what - I was -”

There was silence. And then,

“ _ Oh _ .”

This was definitely weird now, and Aaron frowned, feeling angry without knowing why, wondering where Andrew was, why he hadn’t just revealed himself, why his hands were clenching into fists in his pockets.

“Oh. Kevin.” Neil sounded - different. Different to how Aaron heard him around his brother, or anyone else, and maybe that’s why he unstuck his feet, pushed forward, and turned the corner to see Neil kissing Kevin into brick.

Aaron didn’t even think. He pulled Neil off Kevin and just threw a punch.

Neil reeled backwards, but steady footing kept him upright, and Kevin moved between them, and only his height stopped Aaron from getting to Neil again. Aaron couldn’t even look at Kevin, but he spat at Neil, “You piece of fucking shit.”

Neil rubbed his cheekbone, moved his jaw around, and looked Aaron in the eye. “Oh, hello Aaron.” He sounded tired.

Kevin wasn’t speaking, just standing with his hands spread out, tense and ready to push Aaron away if he had to.

Aaron said, the words tumbling from his mouth in breathless rage, “I’m going to  _ kill _ you. You’ve seen me do it before. I’m telling Andrew. I’m telling Andrew, and he can finally discard you like your father did, like we all should have done - you worthless, cheating,  _ bastard _ .”

Neil looked up at Kevin, and then back at Aaron, and then sighed. “You done?”

Aaron surged forward but Kevin pushed him back, and Aaron pushed his hands off him, and finally looked up at him. “Don’t  _ touch  _ me. We’re  _ done _ , Kevin.” Kevin’s gaze was steady, and for some reason, without breaking eye contact, he took his phone out, dialled a number and put it to his ear. “Yeah. Sorry. We’re downstairs. Can you come?”

Aaron’s hands were barely contained fists, his heart a barely contained mess of thudding, and he wanted to pull Neil apart and show the remains to his teammates, splatter them on the ground and yell  _ see? I fucking told you _ .

He said to Kevin, incredulous, “You  _ called  _ him?”

Kevin shrugged and moved to lean against the building, pulling on Neil’s arm so that he moved too, so that Kevin was still between Aaron and Neil, and Neil shoved Kevin’s hand off, glaring up at him, but he leaned against the wall too, and looked at Aaron, and then away.

And then Andrew was walking around the corner, and took in the scene, eyes focusing on Neil’s before turning to Aaron, expression tight even with his hair all over the place. He said, in a steady voice, “Your brain is addled. For some reason you got it into your head that you could hurt Neil, and we need to have a conversation about that.”

Aaron’s jaw dropped. “He - he was - he’s  _ cheating  _ on you! With  _ Kevin _ !”

Andrew nodded, and then smirked. “Yes. What am I going to do with those two.”

Aaron spluttered.

Kevin said, “Andrew, stop. Just tell him.”

Neil said nothing.

Andrew sighed, looking put upon, and waved a hand in Kevin and Neil’s direction. “These two are no fun. I don’t know why I put up with either of them.”

“You’re -” Aaron didn’t want to be the one to say it. That couldn’t be right. He looked at Kevin. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

It was Neil who said, “We’re together. All of us. I mean, Andrew, Kevin and me. Not you. No offence but that would be gross.”

“Not to mention illegal,” Andrew said casually, like he hadn’t just come down in the middle of the night to find his boyfriend cheating on him. Because he hadn’t. Because Aaron had got this all wrong.

“That’s -” He looked from Neil to Kevin. “Tell me he’s joking.”

Kevin shrugged, looking a little hurt, a little apologetic. Aaron wanted to swipe it from his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Aaron said, “No. Don’t. This is - Whatever. I don’t care. You can all go to hell.” And left.

At Katelyn’s, she whispered, “What’s wrong?”

And he said, “Fucking  _ Andrew _ . I can’t. Babe, I’m sorry, can we just -”

“No, yeah, of course. Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. It’s fine. Can we just sleep?”

“Of course. I’ve got you. It’s ok.”

Aaron’s plan was to just avoid all of them entirely. The next day, after peeling himself from Katelyn’s side, kissing her on the cheek and saying, “I’ll tell you later, I gotta go,” he stuck by Matt’s side, offering no explanation except for a shrug and hopping into his truck, and in the evening going to a diner with the upperclassmen, eating his fries sullenly as he didn’t talk to any of them.

But Andrew was Andrew, and he showed up at Aaron’s dorm just as Nicky was loading another round of their video game, as Matt was explaining why having lost to Aaron didn’t mean that Aaron was better at it than him.

They all looked up at the door as it opened.

“Great,” muttered Aaron, looking away.

“Hey Andrew,” said Nicky. “Want to play?”

“No,” said Andrew, hands in the pocket of his hoody. “Aaron.”

Andrew talked like that, like he was used to giving commands and having them followed. That pissed Aaron off. “I’m busy,” he said, eyes glued to the screen, fingers dancing over his controller at random. “Fuck off.”

Andrew must have given some wordless command to the others though, because Matt and Nicky rose to their feet, Nicky stretching and Matt saying, “We’ll give you guys a minute,” and  _ that _ pissed Aaron off. Since when were this team so fucking whipped?

Aaron turned his game onto single-player mode and didn’t look at anyone as the door closed behind his traitorous roommates, and Andrew positioned himself at the other end of the sofa. Aaron played in glorious silence for a few minutes, before Andrew said, “You are terrible at this game.”

Aaron turned and glared at him. “What do you want? Are you here to explain? I don’t care. You guys do whatever you want. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

“No.”

Aaron turned back to the game. “This is why I don’t talk to you. No like it’s got nothing to do with me or just no in general?”

He could feel his brother’s amusement radiating from the far end of the sofa, felt Andrew move around to get comfier, paused the game on instinct as Andrew picked up a controller and added himself to the game. Aaron unpaused, reloaded his weapon, and Andrew said, “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Sure,” Aaron said, shooting the head off a soldier with extra force than the controller required, “I’m just your brother, we’ve only  _ murdered  _ for each other, like fucking whatever.”

“You are funny.”

Aaron almost smirked, but cleared his throat to wipe it away. “Well thanks,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Do not hit Neil again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron said, relaxing into the sofa and letting out a deep breath. “There’s a sniper on top of that building.”

They just played for a while, only talking when they had to communicate something about snipers or flags or how much better Aaron was than Andrew at this game. Which he was, and Andrew could deny it all he liked.

Andrew said, “Kevin says I should have told you. I do not agree.”

“Neither do I.” He could feel his brother’s eyes on him. “You don’t  _ have _ to tell me anything. You just could’ve given me a heads up before I tried to kill your boyfriend, that’s all.”

“Indeed,” agreed Andrew. Aaron glanced at him. Andrew smirked. “I’m touched, by the way.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Fuck  _ off _ ,” he said, turning back to the game and moving his character over to Andrew’s to jump on his head.

After that, they were less private. Aaron wondered if it had all been about hiding it from him. Did they think he’d care? He didn’t. He thought it was a bit weird, maybe, but after saying that to Katelyn she’d sat him down and loaded some google results about polyamory, made him read an article before he was allowed to fuck her. God he loved her.

So whatever. He didn’t  _ care _ . He  _ did  _ care that now he could interpret a new expression of Andrew’s: being completely fucking gross over his boyfriends.

Like now, sometimes Kevin rode in the front with Andrew. Which meant Aaron sometimes made Nicky sit in the middle seat, said it was against his human rights to be forced to sit next to Neil. It was worth it just to hear Nicky bitch about being the tallest and still made to sit in the middle, and even gave Aaron a reason to smirk with Neil behind Nicky’s back.

Or watching Kevin laugh after Andrew made a deadpan joke. Neil grinning as he watched the two of them. There was more of that this year, and Aaron didn’t hate it. Everything felt a bit lighter, easier. Aaron smiled as he looked away. Gross.

Or Aaron knocked on their door one night - he waited these days, too afraid of walking in on anything to just open the door outright - and when Neil opened it, gesturing him in, saw Kevin sat on the floor against the sofa, head by Andrew’s knee, and Andrew with one hand in Kevin’s hair while they were doing homework.

Aaron pulled a face, and Neil grinned. “Suck it up.” Aaron sucked it up. He pulled out his books, sat on the floor next to Kevin, threw a pen at him, and read his chemistry notes, and ignored the way Neil got comfy against Andrew, crossing his legs and leaning against him as he bitched about math. They all ignored him. It was his own damn fault for being a nerd. And when Aaron finally said so Neil had the fucking nerve to suggest science was nerdier.

Aaron opened his mouth to argue back when Andrew said, “Quiet.”

So they all shut up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Kevin said over a 7am breakfast of pancakes topped with as much maple syrup as Aaron thought it would take to piss him off.

Aaron had texted him early, when he couldn’t sleep any longer, when he felt like ending the stony silence between him and Kevin; and, when he hadn’t had a response, he enjoyed throwing open the doors to their dorm, Andrew and Neil in the same bunk, eyes shooting open as Aaron pulled Kevin out of his bed and said, “You owe me breakfast.”

Andrew closed his eyes again, burying his head behind Neil’s shoulder, and Neil said, “Bring him back in one piece.”

Kevin yawned, and Aaron threw a hoody at him and dragged him out the dorm.

Aaron shrugged. “Whatever.”

But Kevin persisted, “I thought you would be weird.”

Aaron glared at him. “Am I being weird?”

Kevin looked uncomfortable. “No.”

“Right,” said Aaron, pissed off. He stabbed his pancake. “But whatever. I just figured I could get a breakfast out of your  _ guilt _ . For not telling  _ me.  _ Your  _ only friend  _ -”

Kevin threw a packet of sugar at him. “You are not my only friend.”

“Anyway,” said Aaron, feeling smug. Pancakes and a guilty Kevin was a perfect Saturday morning recipe. “You get all that sorted?”

“All what sorted.” 

“You know.” Aaron pointed his fork at him. “How do you know you love her, Aaron? What does love mean? How do I show the people I’m sickeningly in love with that I’m gross and disgusting and -”

Kevin threw four packets of sugar at him.

It wasn’t terrible. Aaron brought Katelyn around more. It’s not that he thought this display of vulnerability exactly made Andrew any less terrifying. It didn’t. It’s just that now there was one more witness around.

What  _ was _ terrible was forgetting his own rule. It was opening their door too quietly, the three of them lost to the world, watching a movie, Kevin in one beanbag and Andrew in the other, Neil in Kevin’s lap and fingers tangled loosely with Andrew’s, Andrew’s scathing commentary low and deep in the lateness of the room. Neil laughing at something Andrew said, and leaning over for a kiss that got deeper, and seeing Kevin’s fingers tighten as he held Neil round the waist.

Aaron closed the door. And closed his eyes. And called Katelyn. “Hey babe, can I come to yours? No. Yeah, Andrew’s busy.”


	4. Nicky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky attempts his best detective work, and as usual jumps to all the wrong conclusions. The truth is unexpectedly sweeter than he could have imagined...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Dreamy, fix yourself a nice Fruity drink and settle in for a sweet, sweet dose of Nicky & Andrew bonding. Happiest of birthdays to you my darling lobster!

Nicky hadn’t seen his grumpy cousin in nearly a year. Riding down the escalator to Baggage Claim, Nicky eagerly scanned the crowd for a glimpse of him. When he did spot Andrew, he had to do a double take. The scene in front of him was definitely not meant for his eyes.

Andrew was with someone, and they were distracted - caught up in themselves. Nicky grabbed Erik’s arm, squeezing tight. He had to stop himself from squealing out loud, drawing their attention, and no doubt shattering what was a completely adorable moment in the process.

The thing was - _the thing was_ \- Nicky knew Andrew was gay. Had known Andrew was gay for years, really, ever since he accidentally walked in on him making out with some guy in his last year of high school, back when they all still lived together in Columbia. Andrew had flushed a deep red from the tips of his ears down the back of his neck, and Nicky had fled the room with a promise never to speak of it again.

So, yeah. Nicky knew Andrew was gay. He wasn’t sure if Andrew had dated much since high school - he hadn’t exactly ever brought a boy home for dinner. But Nicky had started to suspect, over the last few months, through hints dropped during video calls and his own intuition, that Andrew might have a thing going on with Kevin, one of his roommates. The guy had dreamy eyes and legs for days, Andrew actually allowed him into his space, and Nicky frankly couldn’t blame him one bit.

But.

The man whose hair Andrew currently had gripped in hand, with their foreheads pressed gently together, sharing air and a moment somehow more intimate than even a kiss would have been - that man was decidedly _not_ Kevin.

Nicky knew who he was, of course. He was the other puzzle piece that made up Andrew’s life. His second roommate. Another character who drifted in and out of the background of their video calls, sometimes sitting quietly next to Andrew, enjoying being in his space, and other times vocally arguing with Nicky in German about the latest political scandal in der Spiegel, while Andrew looked on with a wry smirk.

So, yes. Nicky knew who Neil was. And he knew that Andrew was gay. But, somehow, he was still floundering from the sight in front of him. As though he was trying to solve an equation with one of the variables still unknown. Or a puzzle missing an essential piece.

When had Andrew become… _soft_?

And what in the world had happened with Kevin?

As he and Erik cleared the escalator and stepped towards the baggage carousel, Nicky determined to solve both these mysteries during the four-day long weekend while they stayed with his cousin before flying cross-country to see Aaron.

After all, if there was some kind of messy love-triangle bullshit going on, Andrew basically _owed_ it to Nicky to let him help sort it out. It was his right, as his former guardian. Or something.

* * *

The answer to _what happened with Kevin_ appeared to be, bizarrely… nothing.

At the airport, Andrew and Neil had bundled Nicky and Erik into their car, and then surprised Nicky by how easily the conversation had flowed during the drive home to their sharehouse (nicknamed “The Foxhole”, as Andrew wryly informed them, with a secret glance at Neil). To be fair, Neil was the one doing most of the work carrying the conversation, keeping up a steady stream of pleasantries and funny anecdotes in two languages so that everyone felt included and comfortable. Nicky had to admit, it was kind of impressive. Andrew had chosen well for himself. Even if he had fucked things up with Kevin “supermodel” Day.

But once they had all made it through the front door of The Foxhole, calling out hellos as they shoved suitcases and dumped duffel bags haphazardly on the floor, Kevin “supermodel” Day, in the flesh, came strolling out of what must be the kitchen, wearing an adorable apron and wiping his hands on a dish towel.

At which point, bizarrely, Neil “adorable cupcake with razor edges” Josten had _launched_ himself at Kevin, basically throwing himself into Kevin’s arms. And Kevin caught him. And hugged him. Properly. Affectionately. With his eyes closed. Like he had managed to genuinely miss him, just in the time that they had been at the airport.

And Nicky was - well, Nicky was confused. And possibly terrified for Neil’s longevity.

A glance at Andrew helped to settle his heart rate, but did nothing to clear things up. If Nicky didn’t know any better, he would think that Andrew was… smiling? There was nothing so obvious as that on Andrew’s face, but Nicky noticed a slight quirk at the edge of his mouth, a hint of a wrinkle around his eyes.

Huh.

Curiouser and curiouser.

* * *

It had been late in the day when their flight got in, so after the initial settling in period, they had all traipsed into the kitchen to enjoy the (frankly delicious) dinner that Kevin had prepared for them. Nicky was a little blown away, honestly. Oven baked salmon with roasted cherry tomatoes and broccolini - it was somehow both healthy yet fancy enough to feel like a real treat. Nicky couldn’t believe Andrew was lucky enough to live with a man who could cook like _this_ , and still hadn’t locked him down.

The mysteries only deepened as the night wore on.

Nicky had been shamelessly yawning by the end of the meal, and Erik was (far more politely) drooping in his seat. Andrew had surprised him again by actually noticing, and offered to show them straight to their room so they could call it a night. Erik had accepted his offer with a speed that made it obvious how tired he really was. Nicky merely nodded demurely and did his best to pretend he wasn’t trying to map out the house (and specifically the number of bedrooms) as they went.

They passed a living area, a study, what was clearly the master bedroom, and then a laundry room before reaching what Andrew described as “the spare room”. A large bathroom was on the other side, and Andrew assured them that it was exclusively theirs to use for the duration of their stay.

Nicky knew he was pretty sleepy, and maybe he just hadn’t been paying attention properly, but he couldn’t figure out where the rest of the bedrooms were in the house. After all, a sharehouse only worked if everyone had a place to sleep and call their own.

“D’you have a basement, or something?” Nicky blurted before his brain caught up to his mouth.

Andrew blinked, visibly started. “Uh… yeah. Yes, we do. That’s Neil and Kevin’s space, though. Best not to venture down there.”

Nicky nodded, satisfied with the explanation. Yawning again, he wished Andrew a good night and pulled Erik after him into their bedroom.

* * *

Things didn’t start making any more sense when the sun resurfaced the next day.

Nicky woke up bleary and jetlagged, grumpy when his quick pat-down of the sheets around him revealed an empty bed. Erik must have gotten up early. Damn his German constitution. If they were back home, he would probably already have eggs, breads, and cold meats laid out for Nicky on the kitchen table. Nicky’s stomach grumbled at the idea and he sighed longingly. If only.

Well, nothing for it but to venture out and see what he could scavenge for himself from Andrew’s cupboards.

A quick bathroom pitstop later, Nicky stumbled into the kitchen, and stopped short. Andrew was - Andrew was cooking. Two pans going at once on the stovetop, intense look of concentration on his face as he carefully wielded a spatula. But what really took Nicky’s breath away was - Kevin. Kevin, who was standing with his chest pressed up against Andrew’s back, head bent to Andrew’s ear, quietly murmuring instructions as he directed Andrew through the cooking process.

What. The actual. Fuck.

Nicky would have turned tail and fled, worried he was intruding yet again on what was _clearly_ a very private moment, but he caught sight of Erik already sitting at the kitchen table, a bemused expression on his face. Nicky was drawn to him like a lifeline, sitting himself in the beloved man’s lap as though his embrace could keep Nicky sane. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Andrew did not seem at all embarrassed or bothered by Nicky’s entrance, any more than he had been by Erik’s presence - or _Kevin’s_. Nicky sat and simply watched them for a while: his cousin and his masterchef roommate, cooking together. It was… soft. Much softer than Nicky had ever known Andrew to be. _Too_ soft. It was everything Nicky had ever wanted for his cousin, but when combined with the equally intimate scene he had witnessed between Andrew and Neil at the airport, it all added up to a puzzle that made no sense.

And that was when Nicky understood. This was all a giant practical joke. His roommates must have put Andrew up to it. Or maybe it had been Andrew’s idea in the first place. Either way, Nicky was sure he was the punchline.

Well, if Andrew wanted to pretend he was a normal human being with close personal relationships, Nicky was the last person who was going to stop him.

By the time Andrew was setting down a plate in front of him loaded with eggs, bacon, spinach and mushrooms, Nicky was composed enough to look him calmly in the eyes and thank him for what was sure to be a delicious breakfast.

* * *

Andrew took them out to see the sights that day. His roommates tagged along, which suited Nicky’s purposes just fine. They caught the train into town and Nicky observed with fascination the careful way Andrew bought train tickets for everybody, handing them out with instructions for their use, like a parent with their young children. It was annoying, but also… kind of endearing. He was like a mother hen. Or maybe a mother fox, Nicky thought, making himself laugh as he thought of the silly nickname Andrew had given his apartment.

The train was crowded, with standing room only. When it jolted around a corner, everyone was thrown around. Nicky held his breath when he noticed that Neil had been jostled backwards, right into Andrew, but Andrew didn’t seem to mind. He was, naturally, standing steady as a rock, one hand wrapped around a bar. As Nicky watched, he actually wrapped the other hand around Neil’s waist, drawing him even closer into his space. Nicky would have thought it was the softest gesture he had ever seen from Andrew, if he hadn’t also witnessed that moment in the airport, and that other moment in the kitchen.

What. The actual. Fuck.

Curious, Nicky glanced to where Kevin was standing. He was pressed up with his back against the train doors, but being taller than most people in the carriage, his face was still clearly visible, eyes soft as they took in Andrew and Neil’s pseudo-embrace.

Nicky was still so confused. Nothing made sense. If this was all a big joke, Andrew was playing his role better than any lie Nicky had ever heard him tell - compromising his most ingrained boundaries while he did so. It seemed unlikely, but the alternative didn’t fit either. If it was a weird love-triangle situation, all three parties involved seemed to be awfully fine with the whole scenario. Huh.

The train pulled into their station, the doors opened, and a mass of bodies filed out. Nicky lost track of his cousin for a moment in the crush, and by the time they all reassembled on the platform, Andrew’s hands were shoved firmly in his pockets and Neil was no longer sharing his space. No sooner had Nicky sidled up beside him than Andrew was off, striding out confidently towards the exit.

“No, you go on ahead and lead the way, we’ll bring up the rear,” Nicky called teasingly after his cousin. Andrew raised his middle finger without glancing behind him, and Nicky smiled at the fact he had actually acknowledged his quip, which was astonishing in itself. Happily, Nicky grabbed Erik’s hand and swung it between them as they followed after his cousin, weaving through the crowded station.

They emerged out into bright sunshine, glare reflecting off tall city buildings and countless people walking past, each with their own lives and families and important places to be. Nicky gripped tighter to Erik’s arm and was rewarded with a comforting hand along his brow and smoothing his hair against his head. Nicky looked up into the eyes of his favourite person in the world, sharing a secret smile with Erik, and forgot about his cousin entirely for a few blissful moments. That is, until a person emerging from the station behind him inadvertently shoved him forward and the spell was broken. Nicky laughed, pulled Erik’s hand and skipped ahead, calling out to Andrew to wait up.

When they caught up, his cousin was flanked on either side by his roommates, the three of them confidently taking up the majority of the footpath. Nicky noticed the glares sent their way by people trying to walk the other way, but the three seemed unbothered, conceding not an inch of space. Their little unit seemed unmoveable, not touching in any way, yet joined decisively even so. Whatever the intricacies of their dynamic, Nicky was genuinely happy to see Andrew in such firmly established relationships. He seemed to have found ‘his people’, and Nicky loved that for him.

Before long, they had arrived at the museum that was their destination. Andrew would have walked straight inside, but there was a fountain, with water pouring loudly into a beautiful pool, and Nicky couldn’t help but hop right up onto the fountain’s rim and walk around it, arms out like he was balancing on a tightrope. Kevin surprised Nicky by joining him, walking ahead of Nicky around the large circular edge at a distance that made for perfect ass-ogling.

Unfortunately, the guy kind of ruined the moment by launching into an explanation of the fountain’s history and creator, and how it had ended up installed outside this particular museum. Nicky would have been bored, but somehow Kevin made his words enchanting enough that he couldn’t tune them out even if he tried. Huh. Seems like there was more to this guy than ‘hot body’ and ‘good cook’. Interesting. Good for him, Nicky supposed. Good for Andrew too, more to the point. Nicky had always suspected that Andrew had a boner for nerdy academic stuff, but had never pursued them. Hopefully Kevin was encouraging him to explore more of his interests than his cousin had ever previously allowed himself to acknowledge.

Eventually, Kevin finished his narration, and Nicky patted his shoulder before jumping down, following the rest of the group into the museum. Andrew repeated his mother fox routine at the ticket counter, purchasing on behalf of the entire group and distributing them. Nicky took the proffered ticket with a wry grin.

“You do realise Erik and I can pay for our own entry fee, right?”

Nicky didn’t think Andrew would bother replying, but his cousin surprised him yet again.

“You’re my guest.” Andrew said it simply, like it was obvious and merited no further discussion.

Nicky shrugged and bounded over to the first display, which was dinosaurs. Nicky fucking _loved_ dinosaurs.

Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye, each of them choosing a dinosaur that was their favourite and having to give a 60 second presentation to the group about why their chosen dino was the clear best. Andrew’s speech had been a concise “T-Rex. No-one messes with him.” Which - fair enough. Nicky got into a war with Neil about the ornithomimidae, who were supposedly the fastest runners, but whose name literally meant “bird mimics” because of their resemblance to ostriches. Nicky argued that they should have been called Sir Speedy McFeatherybutts instead, and Neil was outraged on behalf of the dino’s dignity. Their argument devolved into all of them coming up with the silliest possible names for each new skeleton they observed. It was incredibly fun.

The next part of the museum was a special temporary exhibit on Alice in Wonderland. It was set up to imitate famous scenes from the book. At the maze with the ridiculously large and comically tiny doors, Andrew made Nicky bark with laughter when he strolled through the tiny door as though it was completely normal and not child-sized, hardly even bending over to fit through the low frame. He poked his head back when he realised no one else was following him, blinked at the group, then reached out to grab Neil and pull him through the tiny doorway with him. Neil let himself be pulled without complaint.

Nicky followed more slowly with Erik and Kevin through the larger doorway, which required them to take a few extra turns, before they abruptly came upon Andrew and Neil, backed up against a wall and making out heatedly. Nicky stopped dead in his tracks and tried desperately to _not see_ , but even with his hands in front of his face there was no erasing what he had seen. He turned instead to watch Kevin’s reaction. Kevin, bizarrely, simply rolled his eyes, then walked up to the kissing pair and actually _smacked Andrew upside the head_. Nicky had visions of blood spurting from Kevin’s chest, ambulances being called and police confiscating Andrew’s knives, but all that happened was that Andrew broke off his kiss to glare at Kevin instead.

“What?”

“This is a children’s storybook exhibit. It’s a miracle that you haven’t already scarred any poor kids. Or more importantly, brought down the wrath of angry, righteous mothers upon us. We don’t want to be kicked out of the museum.”

Andrew stuck his flat palm into Kevin’s chest and shoved him away, but he also took a step back from Neil and allowed the other man to detach himself from the wall. Neil’s eyes still looked somewhat glazed over. Nicky glanced back and forth between the three men. None of them seemed ruffled or particularly worried in any way. It was all just… another typically Andrew thing to have happened. Apparently.

Huh.

They continued on through the exhibit, and reached an area devoted to recreating sections of past film adaptations of the storybook. Stop-motion puppets interspersed with lifesize rabbit costumes and fit between pages of cartoon illustrations. Andrew surprised Nicky yet again, explaining how each adaptation represented a different epoch in filmmaking history, with the best of each era’s technology being used to recreate the magic inherent in Alice in Wonderland. Nicky watched the way Andrew’s eyes came to life as he spoke, and thought that maybe he had discovered the real magic of this room.

Nicky knew his cousin; knew that he buried his feelings deep for his own safety. For him to let so much of himself shine through - safe. That’s how Andrew had to feel in their company. All of them - Nicky and Erik were family to him, but his roommates were strangers. Or had been. It seemed that at some point, Andrew had adopted them into his circle of trust. And he was… thriving.

Nicky felt himself blink away wetness from his eyes, and had to look away, busying himself in peering through a lens to examine a microfiche image that had been archived away. The tiny images on the screen blurred in front of him, but it didn’t matter. Nicky resolved to get closer to each of them, these strangers-turned-family who made his cousin feel safe enough to be himself.

And if there _was_ some kind of love triangle fuckery going on, he was damn well going to make sure that nothing like hurt feelings came along to ruin what was obviously the best living situation Andrew had ever had in his life.

(Nicky harboured no illusions about his own home-making skills. He had done his best, but he had been barely more than a child himself, and both twins had been so hurt already by the time they came to him. Their home had been far from perfect.)

They left Alice eventually and kept wandering through the museum. Nicky complained loudly when they stopped at a boring exhibit explaining the discovery of longitude, but Andrew shushed him with a sharp elbow to the ribs (better than a knife, he supposed) and continued to listen with all his attention to his roommates. Neil and Kevin seemed to be feeding off each other’s energy, Neil explaining the mathematical concepts behind the imaginary lines on the globe, and Kevin waxing lyrical about their historical importance to sailors and various navy fleets at the height of the imperial wars. Nicky had to admit, they managed to make even the most boring maths sound interesting when put in the context of a glorious sea battle. Even so, his attention quickly drifted, and he wandered off to explore the models of old ships long before Andrew’s roommates had finished their homage to longitude.

They ate dinner out at a quirky restaurant not far from the museum. It had a wide decking area that overlooked the parkland along the banks of the river that the city had been built around, and as they ate the river breeze played pleasantly with their hair. Strains of music reached their ears from buskers plying their trade nearby. By the time they got back to Andrew’s home that night, Nicky was too tired to do anything more than fall directly into bed.

Any further sleuthing would have to wait.

* * *

The third day of their visit began much like the second, except this time, Erik was still lying next to him when Nicky woke up. Stretching luxuriously, Nicky turned and snuggled closer into his husband’s chest. Erik’s hand stroked silently through his hair. Nicky allowed himself to lie still and simply enjoy the sensation for a long moment. However, his natural bounciness had him aching for movement. He leaned back onto his side of the bed, far enough away now that he could look Erik in the eyes.

“Good morning,” he said happily.

“Guten morgen, Schatzi.”

Nicky preened at the pet name, but didn’t allow himself to get distracted.

“Erik - what do you make of Andrew’s roommates?”

His husband paused, adjusted his seat in the bed, made himself more comfortable as he considered Nicky’s question.

“They seem very well matched to him.”

And that was it, right there, summarised in a nutshell. Someone else might have suggested a useless (and blatantly false) platitude, like “they seem nice”. But they didn’t. Neil was kind of a mouthy asshole, and Kevin could be excessively critical of anyone who did not share or appreciate his hyperfixations.

But.

Andrew was _also_ not a ‘nice’ person. He was the type of person who had been known to stab first, ask questions later. He was fiercely protective of his people, and ruthlessly uncaring of anyone who got in their way. And Neil and Kevin seemed to now be his people. Nicky would have thought they were getting in _each other’s_ way with Andrew, but somehow that didn’t seem to be the case, either. None of them were nice, but maybe they were good - for each other, anyway.

Nicky smiled up at Erik.

“I think you’re right. Let’s stop lazing about and go find some breakfast.”

* * *

The scene that greeted Nicky in the kitchen was honestly like something out of a romance novel. Nicky had to blink a few times and wipe the sleep out of his eyes to make sure he was seeing it right. It was everything he could have imagined, when he was fantasizing over his cousin’s handsome roommate from the other side of a video screen, half a world away. Except that it involved Andrew, which was what made the whole thing seem jarring, surreal.

On reflection, it wasn’t so different to what Nicky had walked in on yesterday. Andrew was standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand, and at some point he might have thought about actually cooking some food. Not now, though. Kevin was standing behind him again, like yesterday, but this time, not only were his hands firmly around Andrew’s waist, but his head was bent low to Andrew’s neck, where his mouth was busy working a path of not-exactly-chaste kisses up and down his jawline and behind his ear. Andrew’s response was what had stopped Nicky in his tracks. He was standing there: limbs loose, head tilted, eyes closed, face… relaxed. Nicky couldn’t go so far as to say he looked blissful - this was still Andrew Minyard we were talking about - but he certainly wasn’t wound tight as a spring, expectant of danger at any moment.

Kevin continued his attentions, unbothered and unhurried as Erik and Nicky loudly entered the room. Andrew simply ignored them. They seated themselves at the table again, unsure of whether to simply serve themselves. Finally, Nicky cleared his throat, and Kevin reluctantly detached himself from Andrew, who immediately resumed cooking like his process had never been interrupted.

Unbelievable.

It was unbelievable! _Andrew_ was unbelievable! He had just been making out with Neil _yesterday_!

This was a little far to go for a practical joke, even one with the delicious incentive of being at Nicky’s expense. Though, Nicky reflected, Andrew had never really been bothered by casual sexual encounters. It’s not like he had ever had a steady boyfriend. He took what he needed from whoever was most convenient in that moment. Maybe what Nicky was witnessing was just more of the same.

Even so, that little scene just now, and the one at the airport too, between Andrew and Neil… those had been a little too full of feelings and nothing really to do with sex, at all. Friends with benefits, maybe, where the benefits extended to… non-sexual intimacy? That didn’t really seem like something Andrew would be into, but honestly, what did Nicky know, anyway?

A long pair of legs appeared in his field of vision and interrupted Nicky’s reverie by plonking another plate of steaming breakfast foods in front of him. Nicky looked up into Kevin’s unfairly beautiful eyes.

“Thanks,” he said, and meant it about more than just the food.

“Don’t mention it.” Nicky had a feeling Kevin wasn’t just talking about the breakfast, either, and wondered about the implications. Was his intimacy with Andrew something he could only enjoy when Neil was not around?

Naturally, Neil wandered in at that moment, still sweaty from a morning jog, and the conversation immediately swept him into its centre. Kevin handed him a mug of hot coffee, Neil tried to embrace him one-handed, squeals of mock-outrage at Neil’s gross state prevented him, and Andrew cut the bickering short by forcibly steering a grumpy Neil by the shoulders to a seat at the table, where he plated up another helping of his impressive breakfast selection and served it to him.

It could have looked like chaos, like anger, like the interactions of three people who did not get along. Instead… it looked like a well-balanced routine. Like three people who orbited around one another in perfect harmony. It made something soften inside Nicky’s heart, a part of him that had until now stayed hard and solid, full of worry for Andrew’s future. Nicky allowed himself a small smile, and dug into his food.

* * *

After the excitement of yesterday, they agreed unanimously that Sunday was a do nothing, lazy, stay-at-home day. They piled cushions on the couch and the floor, got out some blankets, and wiled the hours away, alternating between video game battles and their favourite movies. As the day passed, they shifted their positions around. Nicky refused to be separated from Erik at any point, but Andrew and Neil and Kevin all took turns on the couch, on the beanbag, even on each other’s laps. Nicky watched it all unfold in front of him, and chose not to comment. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to which one of the three cuddled one of the others. But cuddling certainly occurred. Handholding, also.

They were either the closest friends Nicky had ever seen, or their practical joke skills were off the charts - or Nicky was fundamentally misunderstanding this whole situation. He was starting to suspect it was the latter.

They gave Andrew and Kevin the night off from cooking and ordered in pizzas instead. They were greasy and delicious, and there was good-natured bickering over superior pizza toppings and who had terrible taste.

Nicky excused himself while the others were still helping themselves to seconds and thirds. He had a sudden suspicion, and he wanted to confirm it while everyone else was distracted. He gave Erik a reassuring smile in answer to his silent question, and slipped out of the kitchen.

The brief ‘tour’ that Andrew had given them of the house on the first night hadn’t provided any hint of where the basement he had mentioned might be. However, it wasn’t a huge house, and there were only so few places that a basement _could_ be. Nicky wandered down the hallway, ticking off the rooms as he went. Andrew’s bedroom, laundry, guest room, bathroom… there was a giant linen closet on the other side of the bathroom, and then on the other side of _that_ \- aha! A stairway, tucked away at the very end of the hall. Nicky found the lightswitch, and felt triumphant as he made his way down the stairs.

The feeling quickly faded as he reached the bottom, though. It was only a small space, and it wasn’t properly finished. There were no separate rooms. Instead, gym equipment was stacked from one corner of the room to the other, filling up every inch of space. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined one wall, next to a benchpress and stack of weights. Another area was clearly dedicated to floor exercises like pilates, with yoga mats covering the floor. There was a towel station and mini-fridge, stocked full of electrolyte drinks, conveniently located between the benchpress and the other cardio exercise machines. The thought and care that had gone into the space was impressive. It was clearly a thoughtfully designed and very well loved, in-home gym.

What it clearly was not: two additional bedrooms.

Nicky paused at the bottom of the stairs for a while, taking it all in. He wandered between all the machines. He even half-heartedly rode the stationary bike for a minute or two. He helped himself to a drink out of the fridge, then thought better of it, not wanting to answer any awkward questions about where he had been.

Shaking his head once, Nicky made his way back upstairs, turning off the lights behind him as he went.

All signs were pointing in one direction, but Nicky’s brain was still having trouble processing what it all added up to.

There was one more thing he could try to try and get to the bottom of this situation, but it would have to wait until tomorrow.

Rejoining the others, he grabbed one last slice of pizza before loudly demanding they all watch his favourite movie before bed (a sappy romantic comedy). Neil groaned and Kevin loudly protested, but Andrew silently queued the movie up, and that was that. Nicky shot him a grateful look, surprised that he’d actually agreed, and was even more surprised when Andrew returned his look, face open and almost tentative. Nicky smiled at his cousin. Andrew didn’t smile back, but his expression lost the uncertainty behind it, smoothing out into something more solid, intense and sure.

Nicky had to blink and look away first.

* * *

On Monday, Nicky woke up early, somehow even before Erik. He was actually a little sad they would be leaving that afternoon. His time with Andrew over the last few days was undoubtedly the most pleasant he had ever spent in his company. Nicky could lie to himself about why that was, but really, he knew exactly what had caused Andrew to mellow. Or rather, who. Two someones, it seemed.

Two someones who had also, somehow, possibly, convinced Andrew to play the most elaborate practical joke of his life on his cousin.

(A small voice in Nicky’s head knew that this wasn’t what was really going on, but the bigger part of him refused to listen.)

Nicky was determined to catch out his cousin in his own trick - by any means necessary. Even if it meant playing dirty.

Nicky wriggled out of bed, making sure not to disturb his husband, and slipped on some thick socks to wear with his pyjamas. He padded into the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth, and flushed the toilet as quietly as possible. The first part of his ‘plan’ depended on stealth.

Creeping back down the hallway, Nicky paused outside Andrew’s bedroom door, where everything was still quiet, and contemplated the life choices that had led him to this point. It was quite possible that Andrew would kill him for what he was about to do. Like, actual, cold-blooded murder. He would probably say that Nicky deserved it. He might even be right. But, overall, looking back at Andrew’s behaviour over the last few days, Nicky thought he would probably live to tell the tale of whatever happened next. Andrew had gotten _soft_.

He took a deep breath, steeled his nerve, and flung the door of Andrew’s bedroom wide open.

To be honest, the mere fact that this was possible - that Andrew was not barricaded behind a solidly locked door - was the biggest indicator of all that Nicky had been absolutely right about Andrew.

Of course - he had also been incredibly, embarrassingly, wrong.

Nicky wasn’t sure what he had expected. Perhaps a giant bed, sectioned off into three distinct zones behind pillow barricades, the three roommates sacrificing comfort and a few nights’ good sleep for the sake of perpetuating the joke on Nicky.

Or, then again, maybe he had expected to find Andrew with one or the other of them in a state of compromised undress, their salacious activities from the night before obvious for all to see.

What he had definitely not anticipated was the reality of the scene that confronted him.

They were all three there, that much was true. But far from demilitarised zones separating them, Andrew and Neil were each draped over one of Kevin’s arms as he lay on his back between them. Their own hands were clasped over his chest. They were all wearing perfectly boring sleep shirts and pants, and were all asleep - or had been, until Nicky burst in. Kevin slept on, snoring gently, but Neil and Andrew were instantly awake, glaring at Nicky accusingly.

“What’s wrong?” Andrew demanded, voice quiet but carrying.

Nicky just stood there, dumbfounded, unable to speak. They were _cuddling_. They had been asleep, and were taking comfort from touching each other, with absolutely no sexual excuse to fall back on. All _three_ of them.

It was hard enough for Nicky to process Andrew allowing himself to be this vulnerable around _anyone_ else, but for him to have found _two_ people that he trusted to this extent… it was kind of a miracle. Nicky had had similar thoughts in the museum a couple of days prior, when he had watched Andrew leaning in to his nerdy interests and displaying them fearlessly.

He thought he understood, now, in a way he hadn’t before, where the source of Andrew’s new courage stemmed from.

He felt his eyes dampen as gentle tears washed down his face.

“Nicky!” Andrew’s voice was more urgent now. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

Nicky sniffled, realising that his sudden appearance could have no logical explanation to Andrew beyond a disaster of some sort.

“No, nothing,” he said. “Really! Nothing’s wrong,” he promised, in response to Andrew’s sceptical look.

“So why… are… you… here?”

Nicky flushed. He tried to speak, but could only babble incoherent nonsense. He settled for gesturing in a circular motion between Andrew, Kevin and Neil. That seemed to do the trick.

“Ah.” Andrew sat up, detaching himself fully from the others. Turning to Neil, he told him to stay. Within moments, he was out of the bed, feet tucked into warm slippers, shooing Nicky out the door ahead of him.

They settled in the kitchen. Andrew sat down directly at the table, but Nicky fussed with the electric kettle for a bit before joining him with two steaming mugs of tea. He paused, unsure if Andrew was going to start the conversation, but his cousin just stared back at him, perfectly comfortable to wait him out in silence if necessary.

Typical Andrew.

Nicky hid his face behind his mug as he took a large swallow of tea and gathered his thoughts. It was time to put his big boy pants on and say what needed to be said. He placed his mug back down on the table, and looked Andrew directly in the eyes.

“I’m happy for you,” he said.

It was obviously not what Andrew had been expecting him to say. Nicky watched as some tension he hadn’t even realised was there, visibly drained out of Andrew’s face and body. After a moment, Nicky understood why he hadn’t noticed it. Andrew, full of tension, had apparently just been his normal state of being for all the years that Nicky had known him. It was only now, now that he was able to contrast that tension with the Andrew he had observed over the last few days, relaxed and loose and _happy_ \- it fully sunk home for Nicky, just exactly what Andrew’s roommates had done for him.

He felt himself beginning to cry again, and he didn’t try to fight the tears.

“I’m sorry for barging into your room,” Nicky started again, weakly. “I honestly don’t know what I was thinking.”

Andrew waved a hand dismissively. “If it was really going to be a problem for me I would have locked the door.”

“R-right.” Nicky laughed wetly, then took another calming sip of tea. After a moment, he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “So… _not_ a contentious love triangle, then?”

Andrew actually snorted, and Nicky knew for certain he was going to live through the morning after all.

“No. Not a love triangle.” Andrew’s face twisted into what could only be described as a smirk. “Maybe, though, a… triangle of love?”

Nicky had to put his head down on the table for a moment.

When he had recovered sufficiently, he parried with a quip of his own. “Seems like an isosceles triangle then, from what I saw. Two itty-bitty sides and one longer side between them.”

Andrew groaned, and Nicky grinned.

“Seriously, Andrew. I’m happy for you. I can see that Kevin and Neil make your life better. Your relationship might be unconventional, but when has that ever stopped you before?”

“Never.”

“Exactly. So, if you’re all in love with each other, and you’re all consenting adults in a healthy, functional relationship… I honestly can’t see a downside to you having more than one person who you trust to hold you up. It’s everything I ever hoped you’d find… but doubled!”

Andrew’s mouth twitched into what Nicky would generously call a wry smile. They sat there, for a few minutes, drinking tea in silence.

“Thanks,” Andrew finally said.

“You’re welcome,” Nicky responded automatically.

“I mean - for everything,” Andrew clarified. “When Aaron and I were kids.”

“Oh!” Nicky laughed, taken aback. “Well, I’d say it was a pleasure, but you know exactly how much of a lie that would be, you little shit. You’re still welcome, though. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

This time, Andrew couldn’t meet his eyes.

* * *

The rest of the morning had passed quickly after that. They went out for a walk to the local park, all five of them, and Nicky watched his cousin curiously. Looking back over the weekend, he didn’t think Andrew had made any particular effort to hide his relationship, but even so, the signs seemed more obvious now.

Neil was riding piggy-backed on Kevin’s shoulders at the moment, Andrew seemingly torn between acting like he’d never met them before and melting at how adorable they looked. The end result was that he walked stoically a metre behind them, face blank but eyes never leaving the place where Kevin’s arms hooked around Neil’s legs. After a while, Neil demanded to be let down, and chased Andrew around the park until Kevin scooped him up to safety for his own turn at a piggyback. Andrew pretended to be outraged, but Nicky caught the gleam in his eyes. He squeezed Erik’s hand tighter in response.

Back at the Foxhole, it was a frantic dash to re-pack the bags, and then all five of them clambered into Andrew’s car en route to the airport. There was no dinner to be cooked this time, so Kevin came to see them off. Nicky found himself comically squished in the backseat, between Erik and Kevin’s long legs, his own legs draped over Erik’s lap. Neil had somehow lucked into riding shotgun, and Andrew was, naturally, driving. In control and in charge of his loved ones’ safety - just the way he liked it.

Nicky would be sad to say goodbye to Andrew. The past few days had been genuinely the most fun he’d ever spent in his cousin’s company. Leaving now, even to spend time with Aaron, was bittersweet. He was comforted, though, by the fact he knew Andrew would not be alone. He was leaving him in two good pairs of hands - hands that were sure hold him up if he ever needed it.

At the airport, Andrew dropped them all off at the door to Departures, instructing them to line up at the check-in desk while he searched for parking. Nicky seized the opportunity to speak with Neil and Kevin out of earshot of his cousin.

“Okay, you two. Listen up. I realise I am about as threatening as Andrew’s pinky finger - maybe even less than that - but that is not the point. I just need you both to know that Andrew has family - people who care about him - and if either of you ever hurt him, I will personally make sure you regret it.”

Nicky held what he hoped was a menacing glare for all of three seconds, maintaining resolute eye contact with both men, who stared back, nonplussed. After a moment, Nicky couldn’t help his face from splitting into a broad grin.

“No but seriously, I’m so glad the three of you found each other. You obviously make each other really happy, and that’s, like, my whole brand. So… keep it up, yeah?”

Neither Neil nor Kevin made any response, continuing to silently stare at him, though the corner of Neil’s mouth twitched.

“I SAID KEEP IT UP, Y’HEAR?” Nicky was yelling now, and he slapped Kevin on the shoulder for good measure.

“You’re causing a scene, Nicky,” Andrew complained. Nicky whirled to see Andrew standing directly behind him. He gulped, then decided to double down.

“I SURE AM,” Nicky gushed, wishing his life goodbye as he threw his arms around Andrew in a firm embrace. “Look after yourself, cuz. I’m glad you’re doing so well. I’ll miss you.”

Andrew stood stock still, but allowed the hug. Finally, he said, “You too.”

Nicky grinned, and pulled Erik towards the security gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the museum exhibits that the characters visit in this chapter are inspired by real exhibits I have visited:
> 
> 1\. The fountain outside the museum entrance and proximity to the river is based on the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne, Australia  
> 2\. The dinosaur exhibit is based on the Melbourne Museum in Melbourne, Australia  
> 3\. The Alice in Wonderland was a special temporary exhibit at the Te Papa Museum in Wellington, New Zealand  
> 4\. The discovery of longitude exhibit was at the Australian National Maritime Museum in Sydney, Australia


	5. Jeremy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claws up, balloons out, I hope you enjoy this! Once again have a magical day ❤️

Jeremy is someone who feels a lot. He loves a lot and misses a lot. Some may call him clingy, some may call him empathetic, but he likes to call himself _a good friend_. 

When Kevin put forward a request for leaving their team he was sad, of course. Kevin is his best friend on the team, someone who understands his passion for Exy and healthy foods in a way no one else does. But he was also happy. 

Something had been bothering Kevin. It didn't interfere with his performance of course, but as a friend, Jeremy could see Kevin getting sadder by the day. Everything changed when the Sharks accepted him. 

Kevin even played better. 

It was bittersweet, having his best friend going away, but at the same time Kevin was smiling for the first time in a while. Jeremy would kill for that little show of teeth that signaled Kevin was more than content. So he played the best friend part, helped Kevin pack, shipped his things to Neil Josten's house, helped to clean up and list the apartment and then offered his couch so Kevin had somewhere to live while he finished his contract. 

Jean wasn't too happy with Kevin sleeping on the couch - Jeremy became a prude in bed when there were visitors - but he was also receptive, hugging Kevin at every chance he had. 

This morning Jean pulled Kevin close and whispered in such a sweet French tone that Jeremy couldn't help but smile. Kevin held on to Jean, the long years of animosity forgotten in favor of healing had turned them into sort of friends. Kevin was almost crying when Jean let him go so he could say goodbye to Jeremy before leaving for a photoshoot. 

So now it's just him and Kevin, staring at the golden glow of the sunset, eating one last super berry bowl from their favorite place on Jeremy's veranda. 

"So," Jeremy begins, smiling around a spoonful of purple goo. "Sharks." 

Kevin chuckles, staring at the horizon for one last time. "Sharks. I'll miss the Eagles but we do what we have to do, right?" 

"I think you took too long." 

"Hm?" Kevin hums around his spoon, looking at Jeremy with one raised eyebrow. 

"I couldn't last two seasons without Jean. I don't know how you managed to stay away from Andrew and Neil for so long." Jeremy says, staring at the orange sky fading into dark blue. 

Kevin blushes, blinking while stirring his healthy mixed berries slurry. His teeth are stained with purple, granola bits sticking around his lips. "Jeremy - _what?_ " he blustered. 

"I've seen the way you smile at them Kev, I've seen the same glint in my eyes when I look at Jean." Jeremy smiles, shoving the green plastic spoon in his slurry so that he can squeeze Kevin's arm gently. "I'm not judging you, I'm happy you found them." 

"Jere… I… _How_?" Kevin stammers and Jeremy puts both of their slurries on a nearby table to better hold Kevin's sticky hand in his. He knows Kevin is not a very tactile person, but now Jeremy needs to have that; _he_ needs to give Kevin his support. 

"Love is complicated," Jeremy says, squeezing Kevin's hand. "It might be the hardest thing we do in our lives. But it takes more than love to keep a relationship. It takes bravery. Presence. Perseverance." Jeremy pulls Kevin into a hug, awkwardly tucking his head under his chin. "Love is a funny crazy thing, I mean I fell head over heels for Jean even though he has his own share of Raven baggage." 

He feels Kevin's shoulders sagging, as if the secret was still weighing him down. "Love is… amazing. Love is a gift we give to make the world better." 

"You don't think it's weird?" Kevin asks, his voice muffled by Jeremy's shirt. 

Jeremy chuckles, pulling Kevin away from his chest to stare him in the eye. "I have no right to think or judge anyone else on this earth, Kevin. If Andrew and Neil make you happy, then by all means be happy. Love them. Love them as if this was your legacy to the world." Kevin smiles at him, clinging to the bottom of Jeremy's shirt. "Love is love Kevin, and I'm happy you're lucky enough to get it doubled, God knows the three of you need it." 

There are tiny tears clinging to Kevin's eyelashes. 

But he's smiling. 

"You're awesome, Jeremy." 

"I'm your best friend," Jeremy says, then stops and thinks, his face splitting into a huge grin. "Well, best friend other than your boys. I need to earn my place as the future best man for one of the grooms." 

Kevin laughs, wild and free, throwing his head back and letting the sound come from his belly for the whole world to hear. "You may have to fight some other people for that spot." 

Jeremy waves his hand around, dismissing the thought. "That's okay, I can also accept a place as the flower girl. You know I would rock the cute poofy dress and flower garland." Kevin laughed again, leaning into Jeremy's chest. "Let me just say this,” Jeremy continued. "Say no to marigolds. They will clash with my skin and Andrew's eyes and Neil will try to hide behind them if he gets antsy." 

"Are you already planning our wedding, Jeremy Knox?" Kevin asks as Jeremy nods. "How long have you known?" 

Jeremy shrugs, taking a seat and going back to eating his slurry. "I guess I always knew there was something good going on. You were always happier around them." He watches as Kevin nods, a healthy blush spreading over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks, making the queen tattoo pop up. "I love that for you, love that you're finally on your way to start your life with them." 

Kevin’s blush intensifies and he tries to hide it behind a mouthful of super healthy berry slurry. "Thanks Jeremy just… it's good to have your support." 

Jeremy smiles, his head turning when the front door pops open and Jean walks in with their dinner in hand. He is still glowing with the heavy makeup, his stormy eyes illuminated by the dark eyeliner now painted around them. "I bought taquitos from the shop you two like." 

"Taquitos are a great wedding food.." 

"Jeremy, we talked about this…" Jean says fondly, kissing his boyfriend's forehead. Jeremy scrunches his nose, he doesn't know why the photoshoot people decided to drench Jean in perfume. 

"Ew, floral scent is not your thing. But not for us, my croissant, it's for Kevin's wedding." 

Kevin turns impossibly red as Jean raises one eyebrow. "I'd go with ice cream cake and marigolds." 

"With Andrew's complexion and Neil's hair? Babe, it would be a _disaster._ " 

Kevin is almost looking like a tomato now, his wide eyes going from Jeremy's frown to Jean's amused face. "...Jean knew?" 

"He's my soon-to-be fiancé. As soon as he manages to get his ass to Tiffany's and buy me a big rock I'll make an honest man out of him." Jeremy shrugs, shoving a spoonful of slurry in Jean's mouth. 

"Of course we discussed it. How about sweet peas?" 

"Now we're talking, my crêpe Suzette. And Kevin, now we're your official wedding planners, why don't you do me a solid and talk some sense into my amazing future husband's head and goad him into buying _me_ diamonds?" 

Kevin chuckles around his slurry, his face still burning but the smile that pulls up his lips is indicative of the happiness of the moment. "You know Jeremy, diamonds are not really that valuable, it was all a De Beers ploy so they could sell more of them…" Kevin says, watching the triumphant smile on Jean's face. 

"I knew I could count on you, Kevin Josten-Minyard-Day." Jean says, stealing more of Jeremy's berry slurry as his boyfriend groans. 

"Ugh, that's what I get for being a good friend. You turn around and they go all Nero on me." 

"Caesar." Jean and Kevin say at the same time. 

"Whatever, Greek people." Jeremy grumbles before he hears his husband and best friend laugh, whispering _Roman_ s under their breath and high fiving. "Ugh, you can both sleep on the couch tonight." 


	6. Matt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happiest of birthdays to you, even though your presence in my life is 100% a gift for me. I hope you have plenty of pie and OT3 on this, the most special of days. ♥

Matt is keeping an open mind. 

He’s not opposed to open relationships. Or poly relationships. Either, even if he’s not exactly sure which is happening here. As far as he’s concerned, the more love, the better. It’s just that Neil isn’t always great at recognizing it, let alone receiving it. And, while Matt personally understands that Neil loves by quietly and efficiently building scaffolds that hold you up when you can’t stand on your own, it can be hard for new people to see him as anything other than a scalpel. 

So the probability that Neil has found not only one, but _two_ people who understand him and love him the way he is and don’t just keep their greedy hands out asking for more and more and more of him in return is...low. It’s pretty low. 

Not to mention that Neil hasn’t ever really had a monogamous relationship, let alone a polyamorous one. It’s not that he’s a babe in the woods—Matt pities anyone who finds themselves at the sharp end of Neil’s tongue—it’s just that these are new woods. Unfamiliar terrain. So, Matt is a little worried. Open-minded, but worried. Open-armed, but ready to crack some heads if he turns up at Neil’s new place and doesn’t like what he sees. If Neil is happy, Matt is happy. If Neil is unhappy, Matt will make sure the roommates are unhappy. 

It’s just that once he gets there, he has no idea what he’s seeing. The taller one, Kevin, is objectively gorgeous. He’s charming, too, all expert handshakes and glossy smiles that almost cover the caution beneath them. 

“You’re Matt,” Kevin says warmly, smiling a toothpaste smile, the skin crinkling at the corners of his gemstone eyes. “We’ve heard so much about you.” 

The other one, the short blond, grunts. 

He quickly becomes the focus of Matt’s scrutiny. Kevin’s charm seems a little like fancy dress, but at least he has some. It’s not so much false as it is nervous—less a coverup than an attempt to make a good first impression. 

Because if they left that task to the little one—Andrew—they’d be shit out of luck. Andrew is shorter than Neil, though much broader. He’s practically miniature, compared to Kevin. Nothing seems to break through the flat indifference of his expression; not Matt’s cheerful greeting, not the ignored offer of a handshake, not Kevin’s expansive hospitality. Not even the kiss Neil presses to his cheek after a moment of hesitation. Permission? Matt wonders. Red flag: Andrew’s apparent apathy towards Neil. Maybe that’s too harsh. Yellow flag. 

With the dubiously successful introductions done, Neil leads Matt down a long hallway. He taps on a doorway on the right and says, “Bedroom,” then another doorway on the right and says, “Andrew’s room,” in a much more foreboding tone. At the end of the hall is a very nicely appointed guest room. It’s tidy and clean, though the closet is half full of mismatched boxes and luggage when he peeks inside of it. 

“Is this your room?” Matt asks. 

“No,” Neil says. “It’s for guests.” 

“So there’s a….fourth bedroom somewhere?” 

“No, just three.” 

Matt had forgotten what an excellent impersonation Neil can do of a brick wall. “Don’t play dumb. Where do you sleep?” 

Neil shrugs, unconcerned. “Depends on the night.” 

“Neil,” Matt says, pained. “You’re killing me. Where’s all your stuff?” 

“Everywhere. Get settled,” Neil says. His eyes gleam in that chaotic way they sometimes do before he does something that fills Matt with equal parts despair and paternal affection. “We thought we’d just hang out here, have dinner, drink some drinks, play some inappropriate party games.” 

“Is _Andrew_ going to play?” Matt asks skeptically. “He seems, I don’t know—” 

“Yes,” Neil says firmly. “He’ll play. And probably win.” 

So, Matt settles in. He logs onto the wifi with the password he finds on a post-it note on the bedside table: _getofftheinternet._ He hangs the stuff that needs hanging, but leaves the rest of it in a hastily-packed mess in his suitcase. He texts Dan to tell her he’s arrived. She sends back _boyfriends???_

Matt types, _approval level: 30%_ , and grins at the crying-laughing emoji that pops up in response. 

And then, he’s bored. Bored and curious out of his fucking mind. He follows the sound of classical music to the kitchen, where he’s surprised—nay, _shocked_ —to find the short one standing at the counter in an apron. The apron is black. It says, ‘cooks do it with knives.’ He does in fact have a knife. A wickedly sharp one. He’s using it to filet a very large fish. He looks up as Matt approaches, locking eyes as he drags the sharp knife straight through the fish’s belly. 

A hand lands on Matt’s shoulder and he jumps three feet into the air. Well, maybe not quite, but it’s enough that the sparkle in Kevin’s eyes looks amused. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Kevin asks. “We have wine. Whiskey. Vodka. About fifteen fruit-flavored things we hoped Neil would like. Beer.” 

“We have everything,” Andrew says bluntly. “Kevin drinks like a fish.” 

For punctuation, Andrew flips the fish open so that its insides are bare and gleaming on the counter. 

“Kevin has very high tolerance,” Kevin corrects breezily. 

From the living room, Matt hears Neil laugh. “Kevin has earned his high tolerance.” 

“Same difference,” Kevin says. He squeezes Matt’s shoulder and then releases it, stepping around him and into the kitchen. “Andrew’s making sea bass. We have a vermentino that would pair beautifully.” 

“He wants a beer,” Andrew says impassively. “Just give him an IPA.” 

“With _fish_?” Kevin asks. 

Matt is relieved to see Neil slide into one of the stools at the island, just across the counter from where Andrew is still obviously demonstrating all the things he could do to Matt with that knife if he wanted to. He’s not sure Neil could physically interfere in time, but he’s remarkably good at distracting people with his mouth. Not in a sexual way. Or, probably in a sexual way. No, Matt thinks. No picturing their sex lives. 

Neil says, amused, “You paired oreos and red wine last week.” 

“We have a guest,” Kevin says pointedly, his expression pained. “Can we at least pretend to be sophisticated adults?” 

Andrew and Neil say, “No,” in unison, which makes Kevin throw his actual hands up in actual exasperation. 

“Fine,” Kevin grumbles. “Who cares about first impressions. I’ll just pour a lukewarm Bud Light into a plastic cup and we’ll call it a day.” 

“We used all the plastic cups,” Neil says seriously. “But you can just grab one from the trash and rinse it out.” 

Next to Matt, Kevin draws himself up with the air of a man pulling together his tattered dignity. “You’re both assholes,” he says. “I hate you very much.” 

Neil says, “Ditto,” grinning, but Andrew just tips his head back as Kevin moves to walk behind him towards the fridge. The disgruntled look on Kevin’s face doesn’t fade, but he still ducks to kiss Andrew on his way by. It should be said that he ducks a lot. A lot. 

The IPA Kevin produces is actually delicious—and certainly much better than any of the wines Kevin had kept hopefully listing even as he took it from the fridge, popped the bottle cap off, and handed it to Matt. 

Matt finds himself on one of the stools, bookended by Kevin and Neil, raptly watching Andrew’s hands work a knife, make a beer batter, and cut vegetables with exquisite precision. He tries to pay attention to Kevin’s getting-to-know-you questions, but at least half of them dissipate as quickly as a hot breath on a cold morning. He doesn’t really realize this until Kevin says something about his wife and Matt says, “Yeah, she’s great,” and then Andrew’s hands pause. When Matt raises his eyes to Andrew’s face, he finds one perfectly shaped blond eyebrow raised in judgment. 

“What?” Matt asks. There’s obviously no answer available on Andrew’s stoic, weirdly bitchy face, so Matt turns to Neil. 

“Nothing,” Neil says, popping a pilfered chunk of carrot into his mouth “We’re all happy to hear that Dan does hot goat yoga. And is great at it.” 

Okay, so, maybe he deserved that. He’d just been letting Kevin’s smooth voice wash over him while he watched Andrew’s blunt, calloused fingers work on the food. Still, it was a dirty trick. Matt turns on Kevin, doing his best impersonation of his mother’s most disappointed face, and says, “I expected better from _you_.” 

Neil laughs. Matt has heard Neil laugh before, but never quite like this. Never quite this bright or carefree. Never quite like he could fill the whole room with his joy. Neil laughs and Kevin grins into his wine glass and even the angles of Andrew’s flat expression soften and Matt thinks, _oh, maybe_. _37%._

Dinner is incredible. The vegetables are seasoned and roasted so perfectly that the first mouthful makes Matt moan out loud. 

“I know,” Neil says smugly. “You should try his barbacoa.” 

Matt shovels another bite into his mouth, closes his eyes to experience the taste more fully, and savors the complexity of the flavor and saltiness and the impossible natural sweetness of the vegetables. “Seriously,” he says, when he’s opened his eyes again and waved for Andrew’s attention. “What did you use on these?” 

“Love,” Andrew says, without looking up from his own plate. 

The fish is even better. Matt puts away the meal much faster than good manners would allow and then polishes off another couple of the beers Kevin keeps offering him. So, he’s tipsy by the time Andrew retrieves a leather case that opens to reveal what seems like thousands of black and white cards. 

“Cards Against Humanity,” Neil says. “If that’s okay.” 

Andrew drops a thick stack of black cards in front of Matt. They land with a little thud. The ones on top slide out of place haphazardly. 

“It’s a personality test,” Andrew says. 

“No, it’s not,” Kevin calls from the kitchen. He’d waved off Neil’s attempts to help clean up after dinner, and then even more vigorously waved off Matt’s. Andrew hadn’t even offered, but Matt’s not putting that in either the pro or con categories. Andrew did cook, after all. 

“You’re saying that because you always lose,” Andrew counters. 

Neil settles into the seat next to Matt and grabs a handful of cards, shuffling them rapidly and expertly in that disconcerting way he’s always had. Matt had asked, once, if Neil had been a card shark at some point, if he’d hustled in backroom poker games, if he’d run three-card monte on the streets for money. Neil had said no, but it was a no that Matt hadn’t ever really believed. He doesn’t believe it now, either, as he watches Neil’s quick, agile fingers manipulate the deck too quickly for Matt to catch what he’s doing. The skill has always made Matt spontaneously want to put his whole face on Neil’s. He can’t understand Andrew’s apathetic disinterest at all. 

These cards don’t actually need shuffling, but Neil seems to be doing it just for the sake of doing it, flipping them deftly over his knuckles and back in with their brothers as Andrew ignores their entire side of the table in favor of pulling stacks from different sections of the case. 

When Kevin comes back, Andrew has composed the cards to his satisfaction and Neil has dealt them four piles. Kevin sits in the empty chair across from Matt, sliding a beer his way and a box of frosted, soft cookies towards Andrew. 

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Matt asks. 

“Yes,” Kevin says, suddenly serious. “Is it working?” 

Matt examines the open bottle in his hand, peers into it, and admits, sheepishly, “Yeah.” 

“Good,” Kevin says. He leans in from across the table, his chin propped up on the knuckles of one hand, spinning his drink rhythmically with the other. Matt is mesmerized by the play of his long fingers on the rim of the glass. His voice is deep and smooth, like hot tea with honey. He says, “We want you to have a good time.” 

Matt loves this beautiful man. This charming, intelligent, gracious man who looks at Neil with limitless adoration in his eyes. He decides that he approves of Kevin 100%. The other one is another story. He glances Andrew’s way and finds him with his cookies pulled close to his chest and the tiniest dotting of pink frosting on his bottom lip. 

“Stop stalling,” Andrew says mildly. “Seducing Neil’s friend won’t make you a winner.” 

“Fine,” Kevin sighs. He straightens, quickly drains the amber liquid in his glass, and leans back in his seat. The honey and tea are gone, replaced with a blatantly amused lightness. “But I am winning. He likes me more than you.” 

True. 

“Oh, no,” Andrew monotones. “He’s going to have wet dreams about you instead of me. How will I ever recover.” 

Matt subtracts seven of Andrew’s fifteen food-inspired approval points, but before he can respond, Andrew straightens the black deck with loud cracks of each side against the table, forestalling any conversation. 

“You know the rules,” Andrew says. 

Matt is tempted to say no and make Andrew explain it to him, just to see what happens, but the blank-faced little asshole is already flipping over a black card in front of himself and saying, “Impress me.” 

“I thought I was here so _you_ could impress _me_.” 

“Interesting,” Andrew says. Matt does not believe that Andrew thinks it’s interesting. 

So, dammit, Matt tries. He doesn’t know much about Andrew. Neil is vague when he talks about him—Matt’s always assumed this is because Neil doesn’t really know how to put strong emotions into words, but now that he’s here, it could just be that Andrew doesn’t have a personality other than being abrasive and indifferent. And maybe a little mean. Matt surveys the cards in his hand and puts down the harshest one. Not the one that he thinks is funniest, but the one that forms the darkest, meanest joke. 

Andrew flips the provided cards over in front of himself, lining them up and surveying them. He puts a single finger on the card Matt chose. Matt holds his breath in anticipation. Did he really do it? Did he— 

“Not a bad try, Boyd,” Andrew says, using his finger to shove it off to the side. After another couple of seconds of thought, Andrew taps one of the remaining cards and says, “Neil.” 

Neil crows. 

“Wait,” Matt says. “That’s cheating.” 

“It’s not,” Neil says, pulling the black card to himself victoriously. “He just figures it out.” 

“Bullshit,” Matt says. 

Andrew’s eyebrow goes up. 

“No, it’s true,” Kevin confirms mournfully. “We can prove it to you.” 

The next time Andrew’s up to judge, Kevin pokes at him until he gets up and grabs Kevin and Neil’s empty glasses to refill in the kitchen. There’s no way he could see any of the cards anyone puts down, can’t track their order, not even with some kind of bizarro skilled pattern recognition. 

And yet, when Andrew flips his choices over, it takes him only a few seconds to read them and then rearrange them so they’re pointing at their owners. “Neil,” he says again, tapping on the card aimed at Neil. 

The third time Andrew comes up, Matt tries his absolute hardest to channel Neil in his answers. Neil’s sense of humor has always been a little inappropriate, a little brash, a little chaotic. Confident, Matt pushes his absurd card across the table and leans back in his chair until the front legs come off the ground. His fifth beer of the night has gone lukewarm in his hand, but he takes a big swallow anyway, trying to hide his investment in the card selection. 

Andrew flips them all over, pushes them around a little, and then taps on Matt’s card again. “Very close, Boyd,” he says. “But Kevin’s got it this time.” 

Matt has no idea how Andrew fits that much arrogance into his tiny body. 

Somewhere around Matt’s seventh beer, Kevin tipsily announces that he refuses to continue if Andrew’s going to play favorites. 

“You’re just not funny,” Andrew says. Teasing, maybe? It’s impossible to tell. 

“No,” Kevin says, gesturing grandly with his glass. “I have bad cards. Neil, give me your cards.” 

“So I can lose instead?” Neil asks. 

“Yes,” Kevin says. “If you loved me, you would lose.” 

Andrew’s cough sounds suspiciously like laughter. Matt narrows his eyes at him, but Andrew’s expression remains pleasantly blank. Almost inquisitive. 

When switching cards doesn’t work, Kevin tosses the rest of his drink back and stands, shoving his sleeves up his arms as he rounds the table. His perfectly sculpted face is determined, if flushed, and he walks mostly steadily, even if he does have to balance himself on the back of Matt’s chair when he comes around the corner. 

“You’re coming with me,” Kevin says once he’s made his way to Neil’s chair. “He can look right at you. It’s an unfair advantage.” 

“How do you figure?” Neil asks, tipping his head back when Kevin leans (and looms) over him. 

“This face,” Kevin says. He cups it between his palms and aims it at Matt. “Could you say no to this face?” 

“No,” Matt says. “When you’re right, you’re right.” 

“I’m right,” Kevin says loudly. Very loudly. And then—to Matt’s delight and surprise—Kevin bends down, tucks his hands under the seat of Neil’s chair, and lifts it, boyfriend and all. 

“Now you’re just showing off,” Andrew says. Matt thinks he sees a wash of amusement over his face, but it could just be a trick of the light. 

Even drunk, Kevin barely seems to notice the combined weight of Neil and the chair. Kevin carries his load all the way around the table, taking careful, steady steps, and sets it down next to his own. He’s not even sweating, Matt thinks, impressed. He must lift. He must be able to pick both of these men up at the same time, one in each arm. Kevin wobbles just a little once his hands are free; he collapses into his seat and reaches for the side of Neil’s chair again, dragging it closer. 

It doesn’t help him any. Andrew wins. Somehow, Andrew gets his seven cards while Matt only has three. Kevin has two. Neil has five. 

But Andrew, Matt reluctantly admits to himself, is hilarious. He seems to loosen up a little with a couple of glasses of whiskey in him, but ‘looser’ in this context just means that Matt can recognize the ghosts of amusement as they flit across his face. Andrew somehow always knows the exact right card to put down for the person choosing. One of the choices he slides over for Matt to pick—at some point during the eighth round of drinks—makes Matt laugh so hard that he can taste the salt of his own tears. 

After a couple of games, back in the guest room, Matt confronts the reality of his own drunkenness. His eyes, accustomed to the dimmer dining room lighting, squint against the harsh brightness in the bedroom. The bed itself keeps growing and shrinking within the field of his vision. His pajamas are imprisoned within the confusing zippers of his suitcase. 

If Matt knows one thing for sure, it’s that he needs water. Like, a lot of water. 

That knowledge is the only thing that keeps him upright. His whole body wants to sway towards the mattress and leave tomorrow’s problems for that future version of himself to deal with, but after all these years, even the thought of the morning’s thick, dry mouth and pounding head are enough to get him moving. He shuffles quietly down the hall in his underwear and shirt, trying not to make sounds that would make Andrew come stare at him or Kevin try to host him to death or Neil come out of one of these bedrooms half naked. 

He needn’t have bothered—he comes upon Andrew and Neil anyway as soon as he steps into the kitchen. 

“—brunch,” Andrew is saying. Matt can’t see much of his face the way they’re standing: Neil with his back to the counter, Andrew, hands braced on either side of Neil, leaning against him. 

Matt thinks, _oh god, what have I walked in on_ , and then he sees Neil’s arms looped low and loose around Andrew’s waist. Thank god. All four hands in plain sight. 

“I’ll have him up and ready,” Neil says quietly. “I won’t let anything ruin your waffles.” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

“It’s a promise,” Neil says, pressing kisses along Andrew’s jaw (neck?) like punctuation. “Nothing will come between you and your true love, not on my watch.” 

Neil’s head dips lower and Andrew’s tips back. Matt sees the smallest shiver work its way through Andrew’s body and he realizes, all of a sudden, that he’s eavesdropping. And peeping. He’s a voyeur. He’s the world’s thirstiest peeping Tom. 

“Hey,” he blurts awkwardly. Neil jerks to look at him, but Andrew doesn’t look surprised at all. Matt’s not sure he’s seen Andrew look anything other than fully in control of himself all night, no matter how much he seemed to be drinking. It’s a little fucking spooky. 

“Hey, Matt,” Neil says easily. “We were talking about tomorrow morning. We’re doing hangover brunch.” 

“For you and Kevin,” Andrew clarifies. 

“It’s just normal brunch for Andrew,” Neil stage-whispers. “He’s a brunch machine. He blends the most exquisite juices. He— _ow, Andrew_ , fuck.” 

“Tomorrow,” Andrew says sternly. “Ready to go at 10:40. Kevin needs to be up and dressed.” 

“Up and dressed,” Neil repeats. “Does a onesie count?” 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

“Housedress?” Neil asks, with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

Andrew lifts a hand and uses it to cover as much of Neil’s face as he can. Matt is just close enough to see the disapproval on Andrew’s face as Neil’s eyes fall closed beneath his fingers. 

“I hate you,” Andrew says. “10:40.” 

“10:40,” Neil repeats. “I promise.” 

Matt doesn’t know what to make of it. That’s what he texts to Dan, when he finally flops onto his bed with four bottles of water. She’ll be asleep by now, but he types and types until he can’t remember what he wants to say next. 

_I don’t know what to make of this_  
_the hot one is great_  
_kevin_  
_but the short one_  
_andrew_  
_i don’t get it_  
_resting murder face_  
_kevin obvs loves neil and andrew_  
_neil obvs loves kevin and andrew_  
_i can’t tell if andrew even likes them_  
_neil is happy_  
_because of kevin?_  
_in spite of andrew?_  
_kevin is very buff but not as buff as me_  
_heres what i know about andrew: shorter than neil, cooks good, party game mindreader, loves waffles_  
_heres what i know about kevin: i can’t type that much you’d hate me_  
_i’m really drunk_  
_i love you_  
_thnks for not having murder face_  
_you’re so cool_  


_u up?_

Matt wakes up in his underwear and a small puddle of his own drool to the blare of his 10:15 alarm. He hadn’t showered the night before and he sure as fuck isn’t going to do it now, so he slaps at his phone until it snoozes and trips right back into sleep. At 10:24, he reluctantly sits up and chugs two of the bottles of water. Andrew’s firm voice saying _10:40_ in his head is crystal clear, and he definitely doesn’t want to find out what would happen if he wasn’t ready until 10:42, so he pulls on some combination of clothing, fresh socks, and staggers to the bathroom to do his morning unmentionables. 

Andrew is already in the living room when Matt emerges, feeling very much like a zombie. So much like a zombie, in fact, that it’s his guttural moan of misery that lifts Andrew’s head from his crossword book. That perfect blond eyebrow goes up again, and then Andrew lifts his coffee cup for a sip and goes back to drawing careful letters into the boxes. In pen, Matt sees. He’d call it hubris, but is it actually hubris if you’re just a badass at everything? Everything except, like, engaging with other human beings. 

In the absence of hospitality, Matt helps himself to a large cup of black coffee and hopes its bitterness will be enough penance for the hangover gods to take pity on him. He does more blowing on it than he does drinking it. Andrew’s pen scratches again and again on the paper, and while Matt’s not sure, he thinks the tapping of Andrew’s pen against the paper gets faster and faster as each minute ticks by. 

Only about four mouthfuls of the cooling coffee have actually made it into his mouth before Kevin wanders out from the bedrooms in sweats and a t-shirt, rubbing at his stomach and shuffling along barefoot. 

“Where’s Neil?” Kevin yawns. 

For the first time since he got there, Matt sees a real reaction out of Andrew. His head whips around to Kevin. “What do you mean ‘ _where’s Neil_ ’? 

“I mean where’s Neil, Andrew.” 

“I thought he was with you, _Kevin_.” 

“With me?” Kevin frowns. “Isn’t he back from his run?” 

Instead of answering, Andrew scoops his phone off the coffee table and jabs at the screen a couple of times. He must not see anything he likes. He quickly brings it to his ear. When he doesn’t hear anything he likes, either, he tries again. 

“Andrew,” Kevin says. “Are we worried?” 

For some reason Matt, too, finds himself looking to Andrew to answer that question. Which is ridiculous. It’s broad daylight. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Matt offers. “Sometimes he just loses track of time.” 

He feels the words fall flat as he says them, all of his good intentions deflating under the afterthought of a smile Kevin budgets his way. 

“He’s not answering?” Kevin asks. 

“That’s typical Neil, too,” Matt says. He yearns to keep his mouth shut, but it won’t stop moving, stumbling along behind his mind as he searches for memories of Neil going on long runs and forgetting his phone and turning up hours later carrying a sno-cone machine he couldn’t explain. 

“Typical Neil,” Andrew parrots mockingly. “Too stupid to keep his phone charged.” 

“Hey,” Matt protests. “He’s not—“ 

“Check Find Friends,” Kevin interrupts. 

Andrew taps a few times again and then scowls at his screen. “The river trail.” 

“So he’s taking a long walk,” Matt says. 

Andrew’s dismissive scoff is almost guttural. Kevin tries a little harder, prying his eyes away from the dot on his screen enough to absently show Matt his very straight teeth. “He was a little feral when we got him, but he’s better about it now. He texts if he’s going to be late. I’m sure we seem paranoid, but...” 

Kevin, maybe. He does seem to have moved right into anxiety mode over what’s probably just a bout of Neil’s characteristic wanderlust. Andrew, on the other hand, is strangely still impassive. The strongest thing on his face is a vague wash of annoyance. That’s all it takes to flip a switch for Matt: Neil could be _dead in a ditch_ and Andrew couldn’t care less. 

“Well let’s go find him then,” Matt says. It’s a little louder than he intends and when he stands to get the task started, he lurches too quickly to his feet. 

Andrew looks at him as though he’s a troll that’s just emerged from beneath its bridge. Matt bristles, because Neil is his friend, has been his friend longer than he’s known these assholes, and _fuck you, you short bastard,_ for treating him like an interloper and—there’s a knock at the door. 

Knocks at the door when someone is missing are rarely a good sign. The panic that flashes quickly across Kevin’s face is far less dramatic than the shuttering of Andrew’s; he drains it of even the vaguest emotion before Matt can blink. The second knock gets Kevin moving—he yanks the door open, revealing a very sweaty, disheveled Neil instead of two bulky cops with buzzing radios. 

“Sorry,” Neil says, winded. He rubs Kevin’s chest quickly on his way through the door, but his objective is clear: Andrew, whose relief is intimate, raw and exposed. Matt thinks he should probably look away, but he can’t. He’s riveted to the way Andrew’s eyes track Neil, evaluating, clocking the slight wobble in his gait, the sweat saturating most of his shirt. The moment Neil is within arm’s length, Andrew grasps his wrist and tugs Neil into his lap, wrapping around him tightly. 

“I’m still getting you to brunch,” Neil says. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of room to move within the vice grip of Andrew’s arms, but he manages to twist enough to get his arm around Andrew’s shoulders, freeing up a few inches between them that Andrew closes immediately. 

“Where were you?” Andrew demands. “Kevin thought you were dead.” 

They all kind of thought he was a little bit dead, Matt thinks. It is Neil, after all. He’s not surprised Andrew wouldn’t admit to it, but he’s also not surprised that Neil doesn’t really need him to. His expression softens. He shifts a hand to Andrew’s hair, gently weaving his fingers through the strands without disturbing the little bun, and presses a kiss to Andrew’s temple. 

“I locked the keys in the car with my phone,” Neil admits sheepishly. “I had to walk back.” 

Kevin makes some kind of noise that Matt can’t translate—exasperated disbelief, maybe?—but Matt is still glued to the tableau on the armchair. 

“That’s too far to walk,” Andrew says sharply. “You should have broken a window.” 

Neil kisses Andrew’s temple again, his hairline, the rise of his cheekbone. “And deface your car?” he asks lightly. 

“I can replace a window,” Andrew grumbles. 

“But then Matt would see you cry.” 

Andrew glares, but there’s no heat in it. Matt suddenly wonders if he imagined the heat in every previous dark look. Matt wonders how he missed this—why he didn’t see Andrew saying things by not saying them, didn’t see the teasing in his dry delivery, didn’t see the care in the lightness of Andrew’s hands on Kevin and Neil’s backs and shoulders and knees. 

He should have known better. His love for Dan has teeth and claws, too, 

Maybe it was all there. The cooking. The games. The space allotted by two bedrooms. The easy rhythms of the three of them sharing a room, making each other drinks, passing salt and sauce without being asked. Maybe none of them are easy—Neil sure as hell isn’t. That was the foundation of Matt’s concern, after all. Maybe Andrew isn’t easy, either. Kevin seems easy now, but maybe he isn’t when the charm and hospitality aren’t running high. Maybe they’re running high to compensate for Andrew's distance and illegibility. 

Maybe Andrew is closer and more legible when there’s not a stranger in his house. 

What Matt knows for sure now, as he watches Andrew’s tightly grasping arms, is that Neil has found something here. Something that holds onto him. Something worth holding back. 

“We can still make it,” Neil says, kissing Andrew’s forehead. “Just give me 60 seconds to hose off. If they try to give us shit, I’ll cut someone.” 

There’s a stirring near Matt, much closer than he’d realized. Kevin says, “I’m on it. Matt and I will go get the table. Just meet us there.” 

“Better hurry,” Matt teases, grinning. His chest is buoyant, helium-filled. He’s on top of the world. This is it—the very peak. And here he is. “I might steal this one from you.” 

“You can try,” Neil says, grinning back. 

For his part, Andrew has returned to looking sublimely unimpressed by Matt. 

“No, no,” Kevin says. “I like this plan. These two don’t woo me anymore.” 

“Bullshit!” Neil protests. 

Kevin opens the door and gestures for Matt to walk through it. “What do you like most about me?” he asks. “My eyes? My biceps? My enormous cock?” 

“Well,” Matt says coyly, “I guess we should probably compare.” 

Kevin drives Matt to brunch in his dusty SUV. Kevin charms the hostess into giving them their table even though they’re a couple of minutes late and the restaurant is packed. Kevin slides into the booth next to Matt and asks him about his mother and his job and Dan and his community lacrosse team. Kevin is warm and charismatic and smiles his ice- and heart-melting smile at their server. 

It’s obvious why Neil loves Kevin. 

But when Andrew and Neil arrive, both with damp hair, fingers tangled, and slide into the other side of the booth, Matt sees the way they crowd into the same space. He sees the way Andrew’s hand slides up and down Neil’s back when he props his elbows on the table and leans forward to scold a laughing Kevin for running around on them. He sees the softness in Andrew’s otherwise impassive face, the slight quirk of a smile behind his coffee cup while Kevin and Neil negotiate an increase in date nights and whether or not any of them are allowed to keep socks on in bed. 

And, well, now Matt gets it. It’s obvious why Neil loves Andrew, too. Matt beams across the table at both of them, thinking about the _100%_ text he’s going to send Dan, thinking about pulling out his phone and taking a picture to send to her. He could do it discreetly, probably, but when he reaches for his pocket, Andrew’s sculpted eyebrow lifts warningly. Okay, fine. _98%_. 


End file.
